Untamed
by Clementine Mack
Summary: Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was presumed dead. That is until one day she reappears but not as the person she was before. Her arrival offers more mysteries than answers for her loved ones as they try to piece together what befell the witch. With the help of her friends the question remains: Will Hermione find her humanity again? (werewolf!Hermione)
1. Prologue

**[Author's Note]**  
Hello dear readers! I am very eager to share the fic that has totally consumed my writing sessions as of late. When it first popped into my head I was in the middle of writing three other pieces and told myself this one would have to wait until the others were finished. Only inspiration waits for no writer and no sooner had I jotted down a cursory few paragraphs did this fic take total hold of me. Several thousand words later and down the rabbit hole I've gone.

Thanks for indulging this whim of mine, enjoy the read.

* * *

They won't tell you fairytales

Of how girls can be dangerous and still win.

They will only tell you stories

Where girls are sweet and kind

and reject all sin.

I guess to them

It's a terrifying thought,

A red riding hood

Who knew exactly

What she was doing

When she invited the wild in.

 _\- Nikita Gill_

* * *

 **St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries  
** _ **Present Day**_

"What's wrong with her?" Harry asked in low voice, staring through the window in disbelief. Ginny bit the inside of her cheek so not to cry as she stood between Ron and Harry. Her hand was intertwined with Harry's and he could feel her grip tighten at the sight in front of them.

Ron stoically watched the familiar dark curly-haired woman pace inside the hospital room, his expression entirely devoid of emotion. It was still hard to process that the figure in front of them was their closest friend Hermione Granger. During the Battle of Hogwarts she had disappeared and was presumed a casualty of the war. The whole wizarding world had grieved her death; Harry still carried the bitter memory of her funeral in his heart. The crimson and gold tapestry they hung over her empty coffin was burned into his mind. How many times through the years had he spent standing over a marble gravestone with her name etched into it?

 _And yet here she is,_ Harry said to himself as he battled the waves of confusion.

No one could have imagined that she would reappear five years later like a vision from the past. Only the Hermione they had once known had been replaced with something altogether different and terrifying.

She was _feral._

She snarled as a nurse approached to check her vitals, and in a flash of movement she was lunging at the woman with surprising speed and agility. The brutality in which she struck the woman made her friends flinch reflexively. At once three male nurses rushed forward to restrain Hermione even as she fought back against their hold. The witch screamed in fury and the sound pierced through their hearts.

"We don't know the full extent of her trauma just yet. Physically, she appears healthy but there seems to be significant language and emotional impairment that we must run further testing on." the doctor said carefully. His years of medicine had given him a level of cautiousness when presenting uncomfortable news to a patient's loved ones. "And there is one very delicate matter to discuss…"

When the doctor paused, considering the weight of the news and whether he should be discussing such with them, Harry interjected. "We are the only family she has left."

In truth, no one knew where Hermione Granger's parents were or even if they had survived the war. When she had set off with Harry to destroy the horcruxes she had Obliviated her parents, completely erasing her existence from their lives and changing their identities. Only she held the key to finding them but with each passing moment Harry wondered if there was enough of his old friend left to ever unlock that mystery.

"Very well," the doctor said. In such a circumstance, especially when concerning those involved, the older wizard obliged with sharing the diagnosis. "Hermione has been infected with lycanthropy."

"She's a werewolf?" Ron exclaimed, speaking for the first time since they had arrived at the hospital his voice had a distinct quake. Ginny wrapped her arms protectively around him. Harry frowned but kept his words to himself. He had so many questions but they were not for the doctor to answer. He wanted to know had happened to Hermione? Where had she gone all these years?

Harry knew some about lycanthropy both through his experiences with their friend Remus Lupin and his professional dealings as an Auror. But upon further reflection he realized he did not fully comprehend what this meant for Hermione's future.

"I know this is difficult to process but there are treatment options available. We can discuss the details later if you wish but right now what your friend really needs is support. She has gone through a great deal."

All three nodded solemnly but none could find the words. As the doctor left their side each of them were occupied with their own thoughts watching their friend finally succumb to the sedative a nurse had administered moments ago.

Harry, Ginny and Ron tentatively stepped into the room where moments ago they had watched Hermione attack a nurse. The remnants of the violence: a knocked over table, two broken chairs and a shattered mirror were now being tended to by a witch who said nothing to the three as they went to stand by the edge of their friend's bed.

Hermione was slumped against the pillow, eyes soon fluttering beneath heavy eyelids. Even in sleep, her eyebrows seemed faintly contorted into an expression of anger. Harry could see now upon closer inspection that her entire face was marred with scars in various stages of healing. He was the first to step forward, taking Hermione's hand. The witch did not stir. And for a moment he was taken back to their second year of Hogwarts when she had been Petrified, laying motionless in Hogwarts infirmary wing. They had been through so much over the years, and Harry could not keep track of how many times she saved him and Ron in their lengthy friendship. He had depended on her on so many occasions but now it was their turn to take care of her. To guide their friend back to their world and see her through whatever darkness she currently resided in.

No matter how hard the road ahead of them would be.

"We are here now 'mione," Harry whispered to the sleeping witch.

Ron did not stay long, troubled by what he saw and the news that Hermione was no longer the person he had known her to be. Ginny left with him to see to it that her brother would be okay. Harry nodded in agreement as they shuffled off, knowing that Ron would need more time than any of them to process these developments. Hermione had been his first love and when all had presumed her dead he had taken the news the hardest.

They were all trying to make sense of this.

What should have felt like an unbelievable gift was also terribly puzzling: Hermione Granger was alive! But what had happened to her? What fate had befallen the poor witch? This was the question that gnawed on Harry as he sat at her bedside in the chair that a staff member had furnished after she broke the other two.

For her safety and those around her Hermione was put in mechanical restraints. The sight of her wrists now bound to the bedside pained Harry deeply.

There was a soft knock at the door and Harry was relieved to see a familiar figure appear. Remus Lupin had once been their professor at Hogwarts but had grown to be so much more to Harry over the years. His mentor, his friend, if not like family. Harry had not seen the older man since Harry's Auror Academy graduation but was happy nonetheless despite the circumstances. He was tall with youthful features that had been aged prematurely from a life of hardship. The scars that covered his face seemed to mirror the ones on Hermione's features. His smile was warm and reassuring as he approached Hermione's bedside.

"Hello Harry, how is she doing?"  
"Still asleep, they had to give her a sedative," Harry said with a weary tone. "She's changed, Lupin and I am not sure what I can do to help her."  
"It will be okay, Hermione's tough and clever. Remember what everyone always used to say about her?"  
"That she is the brightest witch of her age," Harry supplied with a slight smile.  
"Yes, exactly. So let's give our friend here some faith. Hopefully I will be able to help as well."  
"How so?" Harry asked and regarded the older man. He noticed that a hospital badge dangled from Lupin's coat pocket. The wizard acknowledged Harry's gaze.

"The hospital called me; they didn't tell me the patient's name until I got here though so I was taken aback to say the least. Harry, you recall my research?"

Harry nodded, remembering that Lupin had spoken of his research on werewolves from time to time. Filling in the gaps and misinformation surrounding lycanthropes had become Lupin's life mission. His work often took him deep into the forests of Europe to study packs but last Harry had recalled Lupin now resided locally.

"I have been helping those like Hermione-like _myself-_ -regain their place in society with therapy," Remus said.  
"Like some sort of werewolf rehabilitation?"  
"In so many words, yes. During the war a great deal of people, especially children, had been bitten. As you know there haven't been very many resources for my kind and there was a definite void to be filled in helping those that had been turned. So I took this job that no one wanted but apparently one I am perfectly suited for obvious reasons."

"So you think there is a chance she will be okay again?" Harry asked and was slightly embarrassed by the eagerness in his tone.

"I cannot make any promises but I will do my best. I am going to go speak with her doctor now and see what sort of plan we can make going forward. Do let me know if she wakes up."

Harry nodded and Lupin gave him a paternal pat on the shoulder as he repeated once more reassurances. "It will be alright, Harry."

Alone again, Harry buried his head in his hands and exhaled hard. For the countless time that day he wondered to himself: _What happened to Hermione?_

* * *

 **Battle of Hogwarts  
** _ **5 Years Prior**_

Thunder roared over head as another pillar fell. She leaped back to avoid getting crushed. The deafening commotion around her was jarring as she tried to find her way in a castle that had once been her home since childhood. Only now Hogwarts looked nothing like it's former glory, rattled by a bloody battle underway all around her. Students were running past her but no one she recognized.

Hermione dodged the crumbling debris as she ran into the smoky passageway ahead. She held her breath but the burning fires still caused her eyes to sting. She had lost sight of Ron as the battle around them raged on. Harry had been separated from them as well and she was desperate to find the two boys. They had to complete their mission, they had to end this once and for all.

There was a jolt of violent purple the jutted through the smoke as a hex singeing the air around her and nearly missed Hermione's shoulder. She backed down another hallways and carried on forward with a white-knuckle grip on her wand. Searching for either Ron or Harry within the chaos, she tried to avoid drawing further attention to herself. But she knew she would have to be willing to fight if it came down to it.

Just as she turned down a corridor Hermione gasped at the sight of Fenrir Greyback hunched over a victim. Somewhere between human and wolf, his eyes glowed an eerie yellow as he looked up from his attack. Without thinking Hermione struck him with a spell that sent the werewolf flying. Upon further inspection she saw that bloodied figure was a girl from her year. Lavender Brown. She remembered their interactions and while they had not been altogether pleasant she still pitied the girl, her lifeless eyes looking up at Hermione in anguish. There was no time to mourn the unfortunate girl's demise as Greyback regained his composure, springing at Hermione. She tried to strike him with another spell but she felt the whole force of his momentum knock her to the floor. It took the air from her lunges as she let out a gasp.

"Hello pet," he sneered, standing over her in was a path of blood pooling down his face and staining his shirt. When the werewolf grinned she could see the streaks of crimson on his fangs. He was the very vision of terror.

Hermione's wand skid across the stone floor out of reach; heart racing, she mentally focused her magic with a silent _accio._ Greyback saw the movement but wasn't quick enough to react.

Springing to life the wand jumped into her hand just in time. With all the fury in her heart she yelled out a hex that hit Greyback square in the chest. He reeled back as the magic burned into his skin, roaring in pain. Hermione was just about to strike him once more when a rumble underneath their feet caused a new alarm. There was only a brief fleeting moment of panic as the floor gave way, tumbling them both into the abyss.

All she remembered was that brief moment. Falling and falling until there was nothing but darkness. It was the only memory she had of being Hermione Granger, a single instant immersed in utter helplessness.

She would be haunted by that darkness for many years to come.


	2. Chapter One

**[Author's Note]  
** Wow! So I had no idea when I posted the first chapter it would get so much positive feedback in a single day. It was very humbling and I thank you immensely for all the follows, faves and best of all REVIEWS! I have several chapters of this fic finished and was going to wait until next week to share this one but your enthusiasm was really motivating. So here you go! If you like it, be sure to let me know. 

* * *

**St. Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries  
** _ **Present Day**_

* * *

After giving two nurses concussions and another a black eye, it wasn't long before Hermione was transferred to a more secure ward. While no one outright told Harry as much, he quickly determined that this part of the hospital was strictly reserved for their more violent patients. Something about this development hurt his heart as he felt it was a step back in unlocking his friend's recovery.

In the days that followed Ginny had returned each day, usually accompanied with Neville and sometimes Luna but to Harry's disappointment Ron continued to be absent. He knew his other friend needed time to comprehend Hermione's new state but a part of Harry was frustrated that Ron was leaving him to handle this burden alone.

There were others still who wanted to visit as word quickly spread of Hermione but those closest to the witch, namely Harry, Ginny and Lupin decided it would be best to keep her current state a secret. So they simply told the world at large she was in desperate need of rest and recovery. Thankfully when you are known as The Boy Who Lived, the general public tends to heed your request.

Harry didn't feel this all was so much as a lie but an omission of certain details. The Wizarding World didn't need to know just yet of what had become of Hermione Granger.

"Hey 'mione, it's me." Harry greeted as he entered her hospital room. Unlike the room she had initially been in this one had been warded strongly with spells to keep the furniture in place. The walls, while at first appeared to be of normal texture, were actually enchanted to deflect any damage.

She was crouched in the corner of the small room, sitting in such a fashion that it made her look even less human. Bright amber eyes looked back at him behind a veil of hair. Hermione did nothing but growl in reply.

Harry took slight comfort that although Hermione recoiled whenever he got too close she had yet to attack him as she had with others. It gave him some hope that perhaps beneath her feral nature there was still a part of Hermione Granger in there.

"I brought by some of your favorite books. Do, um, you remember this one?" Harry asked as he awkwardly held up a weathered copy of Pride and Prejudice. Hermione had always been a fan of Jane Austen; even in the months they spent in hiding, running from Voldemort, Hermione had kept a small copy of Pride and Prejudice in her bag. She would read it when she couldn't sleep, sometimes aloud for Harry and Ron's benefit so they too could be lulled by the story.

Hermione tilted her head ever so slightly to the side. She didn't move from her corner even as Harry set the book on the bed.

"Ginny said you might want some lighter reading so I brought this too," Harry said as he set down a modest leatherbound book. It was a collection of fairy tales, each page enchanted with shimmering illustrations that came to life in almost dream-like pace. It was subtle but peaceful.

Hermione sniffed the air, peering at the books in curiosity like an animal being enticed with a morsel of food.

"Oh good you are here too," Lupin said to Harry as he entered the room. Hermione gave a start, pressing herself against the wall and baring her teeth at the arriving party.

Lupin raised his hands up slightly to show he carried no wand or medication for the witch. Hermione continued to glare at him in suspicion. The man made no effort to move towards her, standing in the doorway with a neutral expression. "I am just here to talk, Hermione."

To Harry the older wizard addressed while not taking his eyes off Hermione as he elaborated."She's probably not too excited for visitors. The last folks she saw were charged with escorting her to this new room."

Harry's flicker of sadness did not go unnoticed by Lupin. "At least for now it's for the better that she's up here."

He couldn't help but see that Lupin had not initially stepped any further into the room and instinctively neither had Harry dare move. But now Lupin moved deliberately and confidently into the space extending his hand out to Hermione as one might do with greeting an unfamiliar dog.

Hermione sniffed, eyes narrowing before she relaxed slightly, reluctantly accepting Lupin's proximity. There was a flash of recognition in her amber eyes as the wolf within her stirred, sensing something familiar in the older man.

"That's right," Lupin said gently, as if in complete understanding. It wasn't the wizard she identified rather but the creature he harbored deep within him. "I am just like you."

Hermione inched forward, breathing in more deeply as if to take in Lupin's scent. And then suddenly she went from the balls of her barefeet to standing. In a blur of movement she was toe-to-toe with Harry. She was only a hair's breadth away from him now, Harry's heart raced as he didn't know how to handle the moment and the uncomfortable proximity with the witch who had no grasp on boundaries. And yet he was also afraid to move and ruin whatever bizarre moment was transpiring before them. Hermione did the same to the dark-haired wizard as she had with Lupin, leaning forward until her lips nearly touched his shoulder as she inhaled.

Satisfied with whatever inspection she had just conducted, Hermione moved backward toward the bed with a measurably more relaxed disposition. She settled down on the bed, affectionately touching the worn covers of the books Harry had brought her. Her eyes opened wide in surprise as she flipped open the collection of fairytales, it's glistening pages greeting her with dancing faeries and a whimsical selection of stories.

"Interesting," Lupin remarked almost to himself. He turned to leave and beckoned Harry to follow.

Once down the hallway and out of earshot, Harry asked. "What was that all about?"  
"I think she is more wolf than human," Lupin concluded as they matched pace with one another. He was puzzled by his own words and Harry could see the gears turning in the older man's head. "I have seen similar cases but nothing quite like her state. Most of the time it was young children who's families had left them out to the wild and they were forced to adapt."

"Can anything be done? Will she ever be Hermione again?" These were the only questions Harry truly cared about and felt frustrated by Lupin's objective tone. She wasn't a participant in one of Lupin's studies.

"She's _still_ Hermione," Lupin chided the younger man gently. "She may not be the same person you once knew but a part of her is still there. She recognized you Harry, and on her most basic instinct she knows you are her friend. That is something worth celebrating."

 _I want the old Hermione back_ , was what Harry wanted to say but the words felt selfish and he thought better to say them aloud. Sensing his former student's frustrations Lupin stopped walking to face Harry fully.

"Go home and get some rest," he ordered politely. "You have been here nearly every waking moment and I imagine it is taking a toll. I will keep an eye on her and let you know if there any changes."

"Thank you Lupin," Harry said. He conceded that he was exhausted, he had hardly slept more than a few hours in last week. The wizard was afraid. He was afraid that if he turned away from Hermione even for a moment she would be gone, disappearing just as quickly as she had once before from his life.

Reluctantly Harry left the hospital, apparating to his family heritage home. Godric Hollow was a quaint cottage, nothing like the suburban nightmare he had been raised in by his aunt and uncle.

When he entered the home he could smell the distinct aroma of dinner cooking. On cue Ginny peeked her head around the corner and smiled in welcome: "Hey Harry! Just finishing up supper."

"Smells amazing," he said with a smile and a kiss on his fiance's cheek. Immediately the cloud of worry that had dogged him since the hospital was abated by her presence. Ginny was the rock in Harry's occasionally turbulous life. They had been together since the war ended and each day with Ginny was a glimpse into a life he had thought out of his reach in his younger days: peaceful and full of joy.

"How did it go with Hermione today?" Ginny asked expectantly. Harry shook his head, sitting down at their small kitchen table.

"She's not any better. Lupin thinks she's more wolf than human...whatever that means," he said bitterly and a darkness crossed his face.

Ginny kissed his forehead and gave his hand a tight reassuring squeeze. "Hey now, the doctors said it was going to take time. We have to be patient."

"You're right," Harry replied but Ginny could not tell if he actually believed her or simply wished to be done with the conversation.

"How's Ron holding up?" Harry asked.

Ginny sighed and turned back to the stove. "Confused. Scared. You know him, he doesn't handle this sort of stuff well…"

"He needs to visit her," Harry pressed.  
"You should tell him that yourself tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" Harry asked with a furrowed brow. Ginny rolled her eyes.  
"Luna and Neville's engagement party?" Ginny offered, watching as the light of realization finally donned on Harry. Between visiting Hermione and his caseload at work Harry had nearly forgotten.

"I swear what would you do without me," she laughed as she set a plate in front of Harry.  
"I would be absolutely helpless," he replied affectionately, catching Ginny's wrist and gently pulling her to him for another stolen kiss. In their banter the weight lifted and for a time Harry was able to leave behind his worries even as the darkness loomed on the horizon. For now he was just where he needed to be.

Back at the hospital, Hermione paced. Although she could not see the moon, she felt it's magnetic pull and could sense every slow phase it made towards its final form. It was an itch underneath her skin, neither painful nor pleasant but a sensation she was distinctly aware of all the same.

There was approximately 16 days until the moon reached its pinnacle and the wolf within her grew more agitated with each passing day in captivity. It knew she was not meant to be confined. Trapped. It clawed within her conscious mind to be released.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and stared at her own shadowy reflection. Who was this person they kept calling Hermione? And why did the name feel natural?

 _Mine,_ the dull voice in her head proclaimed. This name _Hermione Granger_ belonged to her.

But what of all these strange people? Everything felt foreign and bizarre but also familiar all at once. It drove her into a frenzy to be overwhelmed by these thoughts, these smells and the loud chaotic sounds that engulfed her senses every waking moment.

The human Hermione fought for control against the animalistic self that had for so long reigned undisturbed. But even her thoughts were broken fragments. Not full sentences but flashing images, darting across her mind and impossible to vocalize. Like pieces of a shattered mirror, _she_ felt fragmented.

She could not find the words to describe her pain and fear. Hermione struck the mirror in frustration but it did not waiver. The room, fully warded against damage from its occupant, remained undisturbed.

In her anguish she collapsed to the floor, howling.

She was alone.

* * *

 **Białowieża Forest  
** **Five Years Prior**

"Where did you take us?" Greyback rumbled. His voice was angry but weak. Regaining consciousness, Hermione's eyes bolted open as she scanned the area for her wand. It was nowhere to be seen and she felt the terror rise in her chest at the realization she was completely unarmed.

However to her utter surprise, the werewolf did not attack. He merely waved her off dismissively while tending to his own injuries,"Truce, girl. We can kill each other later."

She could hardly move herself let alone get away from the menacing werewolf if he so chose to change his mind but a quick survey of their wounds made it clear that neither one of them were in a position to fight.

However, that did not mean the witch was willing to put her guard down just yet.

"I-I don't know," she finally answered. Which was the truth. In an instant of fight-or-flight accidental magic had taken over transporting not just herself but Greyback to...where ever they were. Hermione fought to stand but her body buckled under the agony of her injuries. The ground beneath her was damp and cold. It was hard to make out the details of her surroundings but she could discern that they were somehow underground. _Perhaps a cave,_ she mused to herself.

"Well aren't we in a sad state," he said.

"You're not helping," she spat.

"Neither are you," he countered.

After a long pause Greyback nodded to a tunnel in front of them. She could barely make out the movement as it was hard to see much of anything in the pitch black darkness that surrounded them. "There. I can smell fresh air coming in from that passage. Can you walk?"

Hermione didn't have a chance to say anything before the werewolf added, "Because I am not carrying your sorry arse."

With an angry huff she heaved herself to her feet and bit back a yell of pain as she tried to keep the pressure off her left leg. Hermione gauged it was likely broken but there was little she could do about it now both without her wand or any medical supplies. She was at the mercy of the werewolf limping in front of her and frankly that gave Hermione no comfort whatsoever.

In the darkness of the passageway and the silence between her and her foe, Hermione tried to recollect the events that had brought her to this moment. She remembered falling and the smell of smoke but each time she tried to dig deeper into her memories of the night her mind hit an insurmountable wall.

 _Ron. Harry._ The faces of her friends came forward in her thoughts and there was an overwhelming sense of urgency that filled her all at once. She remembered hiding with them, running away from Death Eaters and then Hogwarts. But she could recall nothing else. No details, just hazey images that meant very little to her without proper context.

They must have walked for nearly an hour before Hermione finally saw a break in the darkness. Up ahead there was the distinct signs of daylight and it gave the witch a renewed sense of hope that she would survive. The witch let out a sigh of relief, however the emotion was only fleeting as she knew that getting out the maze like tunnels only meant one of her problems had been resolved.

She was still wandless, seriously injured and in the company of the most violent werewolf in history. _One step at a time,_ Hermione said silently.

To her dismay as they reached the entrance of the tunnel the landscape outside was nothing even remotely recognizable. From the looks of the trees and the vegetation around them she wasn't even sure they were in the UK anymore.

Apparently Greyback reached the same conclusion, cursing loudly to himself. What should have been a welcoming sign in their predicament only compounded the confusion. Where exactly were they?

While the frustration was mutual but there was no time for Hermione to dwell on their predicament. Suddenly the extent of the witch's injuries caught up to her.

"You don't look too well, witch," Greyback commented but Hermione could offer no snippety remark in reply as a wave of dizziness washed over her.

 _Oh hell._ Hermione took several steps backwards to catch herself against the cave's exterior but it did nothing to stop the sensation of her world turning upside down.

Against her will Hermione surrendered to the oblivion.


	3. Chapter Two

[Author's Note]  
I've been writing like a mad woman these last few days and your wonderful reviews such awesome motivation. I have several chapters finished after this, a new record for me in terms of content for a new story but I owe a lot of it to those of you who have been tuning in and showing such lovely support. Thank you everyone, I read and seriously appreciate every kind word.

I want to make a special dedication to the The Death Eater Express group on FB, a great place to find amazing fics featuring the baddies of HP. They are such a lively and supportive group too!

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

Białowieża Forest  
Five Years Prior

He watched her fall, more surprised than anything by her sudden change of state. One moment she was standing the next unconscious on the cave's entrance. Greyback stared at the crumbled body of his enemy for only a brief moment before turning his back to leave. She likely would have done the same, he advised himself silently. Touching the long cut on his chest where she had hexed him in their fight, Greyback was entirely certain she would have killed him given the chance.

And yet something made him pause. The wolf, just beneath the surface, stirred and demanded his attention.

 _Protect her._

It was such a clear and yet peculiar command from his animal side but he would heed it nonetheless. In Greyback's many years on this earth as a werewolf he knew better than to ignore these instincts. So with a sigh he turned back around and scooped up the witch effortlessly. She was incredibly light in his arms. Like a bird. Greyback admitted silently that she was lovely in appearance if not for the deep dark circles etched under her eyes. She had gentle features framed by dark chestnut hair and a scent that was mysterious. Captivating.

But there was also something more complex that compelled him to take care of her.

The werewolf just wasn't entirely sure what it was just yet.

Hermione awoke and found that she was once again in a completely unfamiliar place. It was night time now and the forest that had greeted them earlier that day engulfed her world in shadowy trees and strange noises in the distance. She was curled up beside a crackling fire just inside a rock formation. It wasn't much of a shelter but it provided enough coverage from the spring winds howling over them.

"Oh good you are awake. Just in time too since I already did all the work," Greyback said but despite his words there was no venom in his voice as he stoked the lively fire with a stick.

Everything in her body ached as Hermione sat up slowly, ignoring Greyback's snide remark. She was surprised that he had not eaten her in her sleep. _Well that's at least one delight in this situation,_ she thought to herself wryly.

"Eat," he commanded and handed her what appeared to be a roasted squirrel. She hesitated only for a moment before taking the offered food.

"Thank you," she murmured. Her suspicion was not wasted on the werewolf.  
"It's not poisoned," he replied to her unasked question.  
"And I thank you for that as well," she said taking a ginger bite of the meat. It was edible. In truth the hardships of the past year meant Hermione had consumed little else but meager meals of whatever they could scavenge. Such was life on the run.

 _Life on the run.  
_

Hermione tried once more to recall the important memories that still evaded her. She was angry that she could remember so little. _Think, think, think!_

"I'd save your energy," Greyback advised. He motioned to his face and mocked her contorted expression of frustration, "you keep thinking that hard and your face will freeze that way."

She scoffed but secretly agreed. At least on the part of conserving her energy. Hermione knew she was going to need every bit of it to make it back to Harry and Ron, including her mental prowess. Now situated with better lighting than what she had in the cave, the witch took a proper inventory of her injuries: what felt to be a broken leg, a likely concussion, a collection of bruises and several large cuts along her arms and torso.

Hermione noticed that although badly injured, Greyback seemed oblivious to his various abrasions and bruises. But something more pressing took her attention: "Why did you save me?"

Greyback looked at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"When I fell unconscious you could have just let me there."

"Would you have preferred I did?" He asked, scratching the scruff of his cheek absently.

 _Yes,_ she thought hastily. _  
_

_Maybe,_ she amended.

"No," Hermione finally replied, choosing the most neutral of the three options that ran through her head. "But it just doesn't make sense. You're-"  
"The enemy?" he interjected. The flames flickered in the yellow hue of his eyes as he stared her down. She was afraid to say yes, feeling distinctly like a rabbit caught in a wolf's gaze. Absently she concurred that it was a rather apt comparison. Nonetheless Hermione mustered her bravest fasade, unwilling to let the werewolf truly unnerve her.

"Maybe I saved you because there is more to me than you comprehend," he continued. And then with a shrug the werewolf leaned back against a large rock. "Or maybe I saved you so I could eat you later."

While the latter seemed more likely Hermione noticed the werewolf's faint smile. Whatever his true reasons were Hermione doubted he would be forthcoming and decided to drop the matter. For now she would have to be content that he had not in fact eaten her. _Yet._

"How's the leg?" Greyback asked, nodding towards her left leg.

"I think it's broken," she replied. "I'll need to make a splint for it if I am going to do any walking. Do you have any idea where we might be?"

"Might be Hell," he joked. Why was he so light-hearted about their predicament? Hermione was annoyed with this new humanizing facet of her foe. She made to sure to remind herself that nothing had changed despite their circumstance. He was still the villainous Fenrir Greyback. The same creature that had killed her classmate right in front of her all too recently. As a further reminder, the stains of the fallen student's blood were still on his torn shirt.

When Hermione did not even so much chuckle Greyback rolled his eyes and added on a more serious tone: "I don't know but I'd guess we are nowhere near Hogwarts. Judging by these trees we might be somewhere in Poland."

"Poland?" Hermione said sharply. How had she managed to transport them so far away?  
"It's just a guess," Greyback replied nonchalantly. "But this forest reminds me of the ones from my homeland."

Hermione paused to consider this detail. For all the countless textbooks she had memorized she could not recall ever reading any details about Fenrir Greyback's personal life.

"Hmm," she considered their dwindled options. Apparation was out of the question as neither had the strength for such magic in their current state. But the extent of their injuries made an extraction just as impossible. In the end the latter idea seemed the more feasible of the two.

Hermione hoped that if she could make it to some small town she could get word to Harry and Ron and let them know she was alright. Hermione eyed her current company and added silently, _for the time being._

"How are your injuries?" Hermione asked eventually, her voice breaking the quietude between them.

"I'll survive," he replied, evading the question. She wasn't sure if this was a testament to his stubbornness or whether the werewolf had some other healing properties she wasn't aware of. Perhaps it was both. Neither said much after that point but the silence wasn't entirely unpleasant. Hermione welcomed the steady hum of crickets chirping, it was a piece of normalcy in what was otherwise a completely bizarre circumstance. It wasn't long before she drifted to sleep again but only after Greyback had already done the same. She didn't want to close her eyes in the company of such a monster but exhaustion eventually prevailed, plunging her into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Neville and Luna's Flat  
 _Present Day_

Neville and Luna's home was a perfect blend of the odd couple. Open and airy it was one part Luna's touch of whimsy paired with Neville's earthy sensibilities. Harry enjoyed coming over to their home, mostly because he was never quite sure what to expect. Whether it was flowers that sang or a strange creature he had never heard of before that Luna had adopted. Tonight the place had been transformed for their engagement celebration with floating candles and tables of food.

"Harry!" Neville welcomed as the dark-haired wizard stepped out of the Floo. He cleaned the soot from his glasses as Ginny and Luna embraced in a hug. The two men shook hands.

"Good to see you, Neville. Er, Ginny and I brought this," Harry said as he held out a wrapped gift. He wasn't exactly sure what was in it, Ginny having assumed all gift-giving responsibilities in their relationship. Neville accepted it with equal awkwardness as he expressed his gratitude and set it on a nearby table.

"How's Hermione?" Neville asked casually. He had more experience with people in Hermione's state given his parents' condition but Harry didn't have the heart to tell Neville that she was no closer to recovery. Somehow Neville understood Harry's hesitation and simply nodded, changing the subject.

"It's alright. We can talk about it later. Come on try some of the tarts Luna made," and just like that Neville redirected Harry to the nearby table of food where the wizard soon lost himself in some idle chatter with Seamus and Dean about the latest Quidditch roster. Harry watched across the room as Luna showed off one of Neville's newest plant creations to Ginny who feigned the appropriate level of enthusiasm.

Ron showed up later and there was a distinct awkwardness between the two best friends as they exchanged greetings. Unlike Neville, Ron didn't ask about Hermione. Only Harry wasn't grateful for it, he was distinctly annoyed and decided to broach the subject first. He couldn't help but notice the redheaded wizard flinch at the sound of Hermione's name.

"You need to visit Hermione, mate," Harry said quietly so not to disturb the party underway around them. It wasn't an accusation but Ron felt the sting of the words nonetheless. Harry knew the reason why Ron had avoided him these past few days had everything to do with their estranged friend. Harry even understood the turmoil that must have been going through Ron's heart as clearly as he felt it in his own; but perhaps selfishly, Harry didn't think he should be the one to bare this burden alone. Hermione was Ron's best friend too. At one point she had even been more than that.  
 _  
_"I know," Ron said and the sadness in his tone was palatable. "I just...can't handle looking at her. She isn't Hermione, she's...she's..."  
"She _is_ Hermione," Harry shot back. He was instantly reminded of the same exchange he had only the day before with Lupin. Had the older wizard not said similar to Harry? And yet why did it feel so hard to hear Ron say the very same words that Harry had uttered himself all too recently. "She will remember us, Ron. She will. But you can't hide from her, not when she needs us so badly."

Ron looked at the ground, ashamed. Quietly he agreed that he would go see Hermione soon if only to appease Harry's judging glare. Before Harry could say anything further Luna approached them and the conversation died.

* * *

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries

 _Present Day  
_

"What is your name?" Lupin asked.  
Hermione stared back at him, unblinking.  
"How are you?"

Nothing.

"How old are you?"  
She growled in reply.

Sensing her annoyance the older werewolf relented and smiled warmly.

"Okay, okay," he said. Lupin removed a square of chocolate from his chest pocket and handed it to Hermione who accepted the offering greedily. "Thank you for trying, Hermione."

They had been doing this each day of her stay at St. Mungo's, rehearsing basic personal information in the hopes Hermione would show some sign of human speech. But thus far each time she had merely looked back at Lupin with sharp watchful eyes and an occasional animalistic sound. Lupin was unsure of _why_ Hermione was so far removed from her human self and the mystery baffled the wizard who had dedicated so much of his life to understanding those with their affliction.

For one thing, she was strong. Extremely strong. She broke her restraints not once but twice even after they had been reinforced with extra spells. While not entirely uncommon, generally a werewolf's strength was tied to the phases of the moon which only made Lupin wonder what there was instore for them during Hermione's transformation. He made a note to request an extra set of wards for her space.

Hermione's eyes were a deep wolfish amber and her teeth had distinctly sharp canines. It was as though she was caught between wolf and woman, her body unable to distinguish between the two. Lupin made a few more notes in her file, writing a reminder to access his catalogue of cases to see if there was any precedence for the traits he was seeing in Hermione. There was only one person in particular that came to mind but Lupin was not sure how willing of help they would be.

 _It is worth a shot though,_ he considered silently.

Hermione's days passed with Lupin's morning exercises (as she seemed to most complacent in the early hours of the day) followed by afternoons in which she fought back against the nurses who administered her wolfsbane. By the early evening when Harry would stop by for his daily visit it was often a toss-up what sort of mood the witch would be in.

"Hey Hermione," he greeted as usual. In return she approached Harry cautiously, giving him a few cursory sniffs before settling back into whatever she was doing. Sometimes Hermione simply curled up by the window and slept, other time she wordlessly brought over one of the books Harry had delivered earlier so in turn the wizard would read a chapter or two of whichever she had chosen for the evening.

"I miss you Hermione," Harry said after finishing up the last page of the book for the evening. It tumbled out unexpectedly but once he started talking the words just kept rushing out, brimming over with emotion from his conversation with Ron. "Ron does too. I know he hasn't been by but it's not because he doesn't want to see you it's just...complicated now and I feel like I should be doing something to help you but what? What can I do for you?"

Hermione looked at him in confusion and the wizard tried to force a faltering smile. "I'm sorry. I don't even know what I am going on about. It's got to be just as hard for you too."

And suddenly she reached out and grabbed his forearm tightly. Harry, startled by the gesture, was not sure what to do as he pressed himself further into his seat.

 _"Ha..rry,"_ she uttered his name and Harry was sure he had imagined it.

"What did you say?" He whispered in shock.

"Harry," she repeated firmly.


	4. Chapter Three

**[Author's Note]  
** Hello again sweet readers! Thank you all once again for the wonderful support, I read every review and it truly means a lot to me that you are taking the time to share your encouragement. I know Ron hasn't been very loveable but I don't wish to portray him as the punching bag for this fic. He'll come around! Maybe, lol.

I wanted to say one more thing. This isn't going to be Harmione (Harry x Hermione). It isn't my style to usually declare pairings but I figured I didn't want anyone to be mislead either.

 **Chapter 3**

Harry could hardly contain his excitement from Hermione saying his name, even if she had said little else after that eventful moment. It was all Harry needed to know his friend was still there. Everyone shared in the joy of this development and what it could mean for Hermione's recovery. While she had not said another word since Harry could see the effort she was making to understand the world around her. And thankfully the doctors as well as Lupin saw this too.

The following morning Harry convinced Ron to join him. It wasn't without some prodding from Ginny as well but Ron eventually agreed (Ginny's exact words had been something along the lines of "man up you prat" but Harry had pretended not to hear the exchange). When they arrived at the hospital room Hermione was perched in an armchair, half-crouching with the fairytale book perched on her knees as she turned each page carefully.

Hermione looked up from the book and tilted her head to the side, first taking in Harry and then the red-headed wizard by his side. Harry greeted first and gave Ron a nudge to do the same.

"Hey 'mione," Ron stammered. He wasn't sure why Hermione's gaze was so unnerving but Ron could feel her amber eyes piercing his soul. What did she see? His shame perhaps. There was a lot that Ron could not vocalize, not even to his best friend Harry. He regretted not searching for her longer, for believing Hermione had really died. Maybe if he had looked harder for her she would not be in the state that she was in now. He caught himself by the words already entered his mind: _Barely human._

"Why don't you talk to her for a bit?" Harry asked in a low whisper. "I am going to go find the doctors."

Ron gave a nod but no sooner had Harry left did a silence fall between the two.  
"Er, right then," the ginger wizard said awkwardly. Ron moved closer to Hermione, "What are you reading-"

She snarled at his sudden movement towards her and Ron immediately recoiled, murmuring an apology as he retreated back to the corridor of the room for safety. Hermione glared at him fiercely and Ron seemed to turn pale and unmoving. The corridor was exactly where he stayed until Harry returned with Hermione's doctor and Lupin. Ron said nothing of what transpired in Harry's absence but Harry could tell by Ron's discomfort that Hermione had not welcomed his presence.

 _It will take some time for them to get a long again,_ Harry tried to tell himself but felt weary _._ He considered that even as children Hermione and Ron had more than their share of rows despite the love they had for one another. Their habit of getting under each other's skin was only a sliver of their relationship. Harry wasn't sure if this particular example was comparable but he remained hopeful that they could still one day yet be the Golden Trio again. He yearned for them to be just as they had before Hermione disappeared and shielded himself from the fear that it wasn't possible.

Harry shook himself from his thoughts as the doctors and Lupin discussed the next step for Hermione's treatment. Everyone had agreed that St. Mungo's facilities were not a long term solution so a different option was presented after all physical examinations came back clear. Hermione would transfer to the Artemis Home for Lycanthropy, a specialized rehabilitation center for those with her condition. While wary at first, Harry was placated by the fact that Lupin was part of the staff and vowed to safeguard his friend in her recovery.

All of this was explained to Hermione who merely looked between the people with suspicious confusion. When her gaze fell to Harry he smiled warmly and promised her it was a good thing. The young woman as if perhaps understanding that she would no longer be forced to stay in the hospital room nodded mutely to this new arrangement.

 **Five Years Prior**  
The first thing Hermione noticed when she awoke was that she felt comfortably warm. However the pleasantness was quickly replaced by panic when she found herself tucked under the arm of a sleeping Greyback. Her eyes fluttered open wide as she quickly shifted away from him, stirring her would-be companion.

"What in Merlin do you think you were doing!" She said, feeling righteously indignant.  
Greyback frowned, in return perceivably annoyed by the nature of his wakeup call. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, grumbling. "What are you talking about witch." 

"This," she said motioning at the space between them.  
"You were shivering last night in your sleep," he answered plainly, his golden eyes meeting her's with a curious amusement that Hermione found aggravatingly coy. With anyone else such a chivalrous gesture would have been noted with appreciation however this was Greyback and she only felt more suspicious.

Even though he had declared a truce and gone so far as help keep her alive, Hermione would not let herself forget who he actually was: Not this somewhat charming blond haired wild man but a ruthless killer and a henchman for Lord Voldemort.

She glared at him a little longer before the werewolf shrugged. He stood up, stretching. "Are you always this grumpy in the morning?"

Hermione said nothing and Greyback moved off down through the brush. She noticed he had a slight limp to his walk although the werewolf had saying nothing about the extent of his injuries. He muttered something along the lines of "I will be back in awhile" as he disappeared into the forest.

She didn't ask where he was going. At the moment Hermione knew she needed to take care of herself, starting with the mission of making a splint. She took a couple sturdy pieces of wood left behind unused from last night's fire (to her dismay the fire had gone out sometime in the evening).

With a violent tug she ripped her jacket sleeve, tearing it into several long pieces until she could wrap them around her leg, using the sticks to brace the injury. It wasn't perfect but it would have to do until they could find a way out of the wilderness.

Hermione thought of Harry, Ron and the others, her mind trying to drift back to Hogwarts. All she remembered was deafening explosions and the thick cloud of smoke that obscured her vision.

 _The Horcruxes._ Like lighting rippling across her conscious mind she could feel a knife of clarity pierce the fog of her concussion. They had been hunting Voldemort's horcruxes. _But what became of Harry and Ron?_ She wondered with dread. Hermione looked off into the horizon, not even sure in which direction Hogwarts could have possibly been in. It was entirely wishful thinking but a part of her expected to see some sort of distant sign of the battle. She knew it was a foolish whim. If Greyback was correct, which he likely was, there was several countries that separated Hermione from her friends now.

 _What an awful mess this is,_ Hermione thought as she fought back the threat of tears welling in her eyes. She was afraid that if she permitted even a single tear to fall the dam might break and she would fall into total despair. The extent of her injuries, her current company and the unknown of what had befallen her friends all made her emotions boil over as she dared to wonder the most painful possibility: _What if they hadn't made it?_

 _Stop. This isn't the time_ , Hermione commanded and steeled herself until she had regained composure. _Harry and Ron need me and I have to find a way out of here._

Luckily by the time Greyback returned Hermione had hidden all traces of her emotions. Or so she thought but by the scrutiny of the werewolf's look perhaps it was still obvious that she had been crying. For a moment under the astute perception of the werewolf it made her miss Harry and Ron all the more for their obliviousness.

Thankfully, Greyback made no mention of it as he approached her. "There is a river down this path if you are thirsty. Do you need help?"

"No, I can manage," she lied. Hermione was determined to push through her limitations. Using a longer stick she had found to lean on she hobbled in the direction of the water. Despite her assertions that she did not need help the witch could not help but notice Greyback followed after her at a slight distance.

She sighed but tried to ignore the werewolf's gaze even though she was half tempted to turn on him in annoyance. Hermione considered the waste of energy and resigned herself to the distant supervision.

 _ **Present**_

Lupin had reassured Harry that the private home was the best place for Hermione. And while Harry was on the surface in agreeance there still lurked some reservations. The team of doctors assigned to Hermione's case as well as Lupin had agreed that the long term treatment facility was going to do more for Hermione than staying at St. Mungo's but Harry was not quite sure what to expect.

He Apparated to the entrance of the property along with Hermione and Lupin. With Hermione in between them they slowly made their way up the sprawling driveaway of the home. The term home was a bit of a misnomer. What Harry saw before him was more along the lines of a stately manor. Ivy climbed the brick front entrance and Harry could hardly keep track of the number of windows. The details of architecture suggested that the building had stood the test of time for centuries.

Lupin pointed off to the distance at a cottage in the eastward side of the property. "That is where my family and I live. So see? I will never be too far away if she needs me," the older werewolf said warmly to Harry.

To his mild embarrassment Harry felt much like a father sending his child off to Hogwarts for the first time; Hermione in her current state depended on him to be her advocate and although he still had some skepticisms he was grateful for Lupin's nearby presence and watchful eye. To Harry he added softly, "there is also a protective charm around the property that we reinforce during the full moon."

"This doesn't look too bad 'mione," Harry said with forced enthusiasm. The effort wasn't wasted on Hermione who gave his arm a squeeze as she silently followed between the two men. She had handled the Apparation and their new location with surprising ease. Her eyes glimmered with a sense of curiosity that reminded Harry of her former self. She was alert and altogether invested in her new surroundings. Harry surmised anything must have seemed better than the four walls of her st. Mungo's room. And indeed, Hermione inhaled the fresh air joyfully. Her eyes shifting from the birds that flew overhead to the distant rustle of the wind through the trees. She was _happy._

As they approached the entrance there was an older woman waiting by the wide oak doors to greet them. She was a plump middle-age witch with a mess of blonde and silver hair fashioned back in a bun. There was something warm and inviting about her presence that immediately reminded Harry of Molly Weasley.

"Welcome, welcome Hermione. We are so happy to have you join us darling."  
"Harry, Hermione, this is Madame Wright. She is one of the caretakers here and will be looking after Hermione during her stay."

Hermione said nothing but approached the older woman and gave her a cursory sniff. Madame Wright was not perturbed by this and merely gave Hermione an affectionate pat on the cheek as if it was the most normal exchange in the world. To Harry's surprise, Hermione did not snarl at the gesture. "Come dear, you can meet the others. I was just about to call them in for lunch."

They followed after the woman and as they walked she gave a tour of the home like the ever gracious hostess. "Up the stairs are the dormitories and down the north wing are staff quarters," she said as they moved. Harry tried to listen respectfully but his attention was on his friend.

She was enthralled with the space, separating from Harry and Lupin to touch everything. There was ornate gilded wallpaper adorning the long hallways and paintings of peaceful sceneries. Hermione stopped in front of an open door, mesmerized. Harry peered past her to see what had caught her attention.

A slow smile crossed his face.

Hermione had found the library.

"Of course you would," he laughed. "Somethings never change."  
Hermione smiled faintly and for a moment Harry saw a glimmer of the witch he had once known. The entire room was nearly two stories of books, carefully curated in a circular room alit with expansive windows across the entire backside of the room. Coupled with several oversized leather armchairs it was the perfect space for any bookworm.

"This way!" Madame Wright called out and the pair were pulled from their exploration of the library.

After a short distance later the older witch lead them through a kitchen manned by House Elves and out through a set of French doors and into a magnificent garden. There was about twelve children ranging from young preschool age to several adolescents. Another staff member was standing in the shade of an oak tree watching her charges. She gave a friendly wave at the arriving party.

There were several small groups of children were wrestling, another few more were playing catch with a ball. But even before Madame Wright had a chance to say anything in terms of an introduction every single werewolf child stopped in their tracks and turned to face them. Only it wasn't Lupin, Harry or Madame Wright that had caught their attention.

Hermione took a step forward from behind Harry and Lupin, scanning the small crowd of children that had gathered around her. Every child present mutedly diverted their gaze to the ground while some instinctively crouched or laid down.

Harry looked to Lupin who appeared just as puzzled by this interaction. "I've never seen this sort of behavior from them," he whispered to Harry with a sense of wonder.

Each of the staff members seemed equally as confused by the situation however no one moved to intervene. Hermione straightened her posture and scanned the faces of the youths with careful regard even as they avoided eye contact. After several long moments Hermione made a slightest nod with her head and the group of gathered children went back to their games. Hermione turned away from them and sauntered off to explore the garden. Neither Harry nor Lupin immediately followed after.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.  
Lupin wore an unreadable expression, perhaps still considering what had transpired before them. "I am not entirely sure but I believe Hermione's stay here will be nothing short of interesting." 


	5. Chapter Four

**[Author's Note]**  
I want to say thank you once more for all the lovely reviews. It has been a little daunting for me to realize that I am not just writing this in a vacuum but that there quite a few of you out there so kind to show support! I appreciate the encouragement immensely. And I know some of you have had questions about one aspect or another but I hope to answer as much as I can through the chapters to come. Please mind the errors here and there, I might have missed a few.

* * *

Some days  
I am more wolf  
Than woman  
And I am still learning  
How to stop apologising  
For my wild.  
-Nikita Gill

* * *

 **Białowieża Forest**  
 **Five Years Prior**

At their current pace Greyback knew they wouldn't make it to any civilization for quite some time. If, he thought pessimistically, that was they made it there at all. He was less concerned with himself as he was with the witch. Hermione's condition worsened with each day they spent in the wild but to his admiration the young woman concealed her failing health well. Greyback only knew different because of his heightened senses: the increased pallor of her complexion and slight fever of her skin, but most of all he could smell the distinct scent of infected wounds. Despite her best effort to keep them tended the injuries had become vulnerable out in the environment.

The werewolf predicted she would not last for much longer at this rate.

"We will rest here for a bit," Greyback said and feigned fatigue when in fact he simply knew that it was the witch that needed a break. An expression of muted gratitude crossed her face as she lowered herself carefully onto a fallen tree trunk. The makeshift splint they had fashioned only partially sufficed, the branches they had used dug painfully into Hermione's leg. She loosened them and exhaled from the relief.

It was difficult to keep track of time in the wild but he believed they had been gone for nearly three days. Greyback scratched the scruff of his blonde beard absently, his eyes scanning the distance for any sign of civilization. Even the remnants of hunters would have given the pair some hope that they were heading in the right direction. Thus far they had been lucky, in some sense of the word, as the weather had been mild and most of the winter snow had melted. The terrain was even as they descended into the treeline but that was about the end of their fortune. Save but the sounds of birds singing and the predictable hum of crickets there was nothing else but the steady trud of their feet.

There was a vast horizon of dense trees for as far as his keen eye could perceive, confirming they were very much alone in their predicament.

You could leave her, he told himself and the idea held merit

Indeed, Hermione Granger (although he generally just referred to her as the witch) was of little value to him. She was slow and likely dying and her attitude towards him was understandably sour. There was no denying that if their situations were reversed she likely would have killed him in his sleep. In this regard it seemed pragmatic to consider his own survival above all else. Perhaps Voldemort would consider her a prize if the werewolf were to bring her back but this alone did not appeal to Greyback. Despite his allegiance to Voldemort it had been strictly circumstantial. A necessity to ensure his kind's survival, which at this point he wasn't sure what even remained of his people; Greyback didn't particular derive satisfaction at bending the knee to the dark wizard. And neither was he particularly inclined to turn the witch over now that it didn't serve him.

He thought about their initial interaction, the day he stumbled across her, Harry Potter and the red headed wizard. On Voldemort's request he had accompanied the Snatchers, playing the part of the boogeyman to scare foolish children into going back to school. A flash of deadly canine fangs and the gleam of his golden wolfish eyes was often more than enough to make a defiant student reconsider running away from Hogwarts again. But this time how different things had gone, he thought and drove himself back to the topic at hand.

While Greyback entertained the idea of abandoning the young woman, the wolf within him balked fiercely at the idea. He was still puzzled by this instinctual impulse of his canine side and questioned it. She's not my pack, I have no reason to keep her alive, he argued silently. And yet deep down the animalistic part of him rose to the surface and the protective emotions that washed over him indicated his decision had been made for the man by the beast. Greyback did not like the feeling of being at odds with his wolf self and conceded to the impulses he could not quite grasp in human form.

Fine, he hissed to himself and this quelled the beast within.

"Did you say something?" Hermione asked and Greyback broke away from his inner reverie. This had been the first time she had spoken to him all day and the sound of her voice startled him slightly. It would have been difficult to explain to her the complex swirl of thoughts darting through his mind at the time and she likely would not have appreciated the subject therefore Greyback merely shook his head.

"It will be sunset before long, we should consider setting up camp here for the night," Greyback said. Despite the cool breeze Hermione was clammy with sweat, her lips increasingly pale. While he preferred to move at night he knew his weaker companion would be at risk of further injury if she were to continue travelling. It was clear she needed rest.

"Okay," she replied and sunk further against the tree trunk she had been perched against. If she knew the precariousness of her condition the witch did not let on. Greyback wondered how much that bravery was a facade.

"I will scout for water and food. Gather wood to build a fire," he ordered. Pausing briefly, the werewolf considered her current state and added, "if you can."

Hermione perceived this as a jab and huffed, rallying herself to stand just to prove she still had the energy. Greyback offered a helpful hand but she brushed him off. This rejection seemed to annoy him. Just because his wolf side had declared her worth saving did not entirely mean the man himself would tolerate her being insolent.

"You may not want my help but out here you are going to need it, witch," he said calmly but there was an undertone of warning in his voice.

Hermione wanted to retort but could not find the words. Whether she liked it or not she was indebted to him in this situation. She knew that being injured and getting worse, without her wand in an unfamiliar setting was a recipe for a very bleak outcome. But even so, Hermione could not let herself forget even for a moment that the man in front of her was the enemy. A killer. The emotions boiled over and she snapped despite her better judgement.

"You still haven't told me why you are even helping me," she finally said. He raised a questioning eyebrow, amused at how close the question came to the one he had been just moments ago asking himself.

"What does it matter?" He asked, evading.  
"It matters very much to me whether you are keeping me alive just so I can be handed over to the Death Eaters."  
"Do you mean to say you don't wish to turn me in to your precious Order when we get back?" He replied back and with an empty smirk, amended. "Or simply kill me if the opportunity presented itself?"  
"You deserve it for all your wretched crimes," she spat with venom. "You are a monster who has destroyed the lives of many."  
"Careful witch," he taunted. There was a sudden coldness in his voice and the mirth from his eyes had all but disappeared. "You know very little of what you speak."

Hermione felt as though she knew enough and yet there was something so troubling about Greyback's expression that it gave her pause. In that moment Greyback stepped away, the lines in his face smoothing as he regained composure. "I know what I am. Maybe a monster to some but also a champion for those your kind has preyed upon. The world is not so black and white, witch. Perhaps if you live long enough you will see this for yourself."

And at that he walked off, effectively ending the conversation. Only after the fire of the conversation died did Hermione realize the werewolf still had not answered her question.

When he returned sometime later the sun had already sank behind the trees, a fading burst of orange against the violet sky. Hermione had done her best to gather kindling but the exercise had left her further exhausted and she felt depleted. Greyback regarded the pile of branches and gave a satisfied nod.

They said nothing. The werewolf had returned with a hollowed piece of log that he had used for a makeshift cup. Wordlessly he handed it to Hermione who drank from it greedily. His absence had given her ample time to consider once more her the lack of options she currently faced. As the ire of their argument diminished she could see that the only thing that mattered at this point was surviving one day to the next. As it was she knew she was in a bad place. If not for the growing weakness in her body or the excruciating pain radiating from her leg then by the looks on her companion's face which confirmed her fears.

How strange to think that this might be where she met her all the great medical advances of the Wizarding community and her kind's lengthy lifespans Hermione Granger was going to perish by infection with only an infamous murderer to witness it. For all she had learned in her schooling, she cursed that she had not spent more time studying medicinal magic.

But Hermione knew she needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and pushed the melancholy away once again. Hermione had made the choice to survive and that was exactly what she was going to do. Whatever it takes, she told herself. Hermione repeated these words like a mantra as though she might will herself into better health.

After drinking the last drop of water, she set aside the cup and returned to her current task at hand. Hermione had been attempting to make a fire the old-fashion way without success. She had read about fire-starting techniques in a weathered SAS handbook years ago but thanks to the practicality of magic she had never needed to use it. The book had belonged to her grandfather, a relic of his time in war and Hermione as a young child had read it in the same way she greeted any book: with voracious interest. But all that interest and understanding of the mechanics of the technique didn't seem important now for all it did her.

"May I?" Greyback asked. The coldness in his eyes was gone and Hermione was actually grateful to be relieved of taxing chore. She handed him the stick, bark and the small braid of twine she had been using to spin the wood. Greyback kneeled down over the bark and set to work, within a few minutes a burning ember appeared to which the werewolf carefully tended until the whole bark combusted.

"Wow, that's remarkable," she observed quietly. It was the first kind word she had uttered towards the werewolf and it seemed they both took notice of it. Hermione turned red in somewhat embarrassment but Greyback smiled faintly.

"You get a lot of practice making fires living in the wild," he said. Hermione would not apologize for what she had said earlier; she had meant it and as far as the witch was concerned Greyback was a killer. But she reasoned that regardless of how long their truce would last Hermione needed to focus on surviving so she could get back to Harry, Ron and all the others fighting to save their world.

* * *

 **Present Day**  
 **Artemis Home for Lycanthropy**

Hermione's quarters at the Artemis Home was simple but far more pleasant than the four walls of the st Mungo's hospital room. When she awoke to her new environment she gave a startled glance around before relaxing in her surroundings as she recalled her recent arrival to the new abode. At the foot of her bed Hermione noticed four young children sleeping on the floor. Curled up in a heap they stirred but did not wake as Hermione peered down at them.

As they had not been there when she had fallen asleep Hermione discerned they must have crept in during the night. Unlike the doctors and other folks that visited Hermione in the hospital this intrusion did not bother the werewolf in the least. They were all quite young, no more than four-years-old and likely governed by instinct.

These children were like her. More wolf than human. They were attune to the same magical bonds that linked their kind, the sort of invisible power that each werewolf innately possessed as part of their ancient hierarchy. This didn't surprise her but rather gave her comfort: she had been without her own pack for sometime and the void weighed heavily upon her. She was not sure how others managed without their pack. Lupin, for instance, was of her kind but she could not make sense of him. He smelled of being an outsider. A lone wolf.

Hermione grunted at the children and the individuals finally opened their eyes. Blinking back at her were four pairs of amber eyes; caught in their curiosity they didn't initially look away, perhaps wondering if the older werewolf was going to kick them out of the room.

"Go," she said softly and the children nodded dutifully as they scurried to their feet. This wasn't a rejection of their presence but rather just at that moment Madame Wright paced by the open door, pausing in her tracks with a worried expression before spotting the children. The concern was replaced with relief as she counted heads and saw that all her charges had been accounted for.

"You all gave me such a start," she admonished as the children's bare feet pitter-pattered past her back to their room. "You know the rules, no leaving your rooms after curfew!" She said after their retreating figures, the tiny werewolves giggling mischievously as they disappeared back into their rooms.

"Miss Granger," Madame Wright said and turned back to the corridor of Hermione's room. "I hope you slept well dear." Saying nothing of the little intruders, the old witch pointed to a neatly folded pile of clothes. "Over there are some fresh clothes for you."

The young woman peered at the garments but said nothing.

"If you would like I can summon a House Elf for assistance."

Madame Wright waited patiently for Hermione to respond. Still unable to find her voice but rapidly beginning to regain her understanding of language the werewolf shook her head. With a knowing smile and perhaps inward pride at Hermione's comprehension, the older woman accepted this response. "Very well, breakfast will be downstairs whenever you are ready to join us."

And at that she parted from Hermione, walking down the large hallway at a more leisurely pace knowing all of the residents had been properly located.

Hermione shut the door, a practice of modesty the female nurses at St. Mungo's had been very adamant about teaching her when she undressed. She was unashamed of her naked body and would have been fine with not wearing anything at all but the werewolf knew she had to try to appease those around her. She had lived as a wolf for so long but it was time to be a woman again.

And part of that meant wearing clothes. So she shrugged off her pajamas and slipped into the linen dress that had been laid out for her. Bits and pieces of a life she hardly remembered slowly poked at her mind; Hermione looked at her reflection as she washed up for the day and still felt the confusion of staring at a face she didn't quite recognize to be her own. Just as she had each morning since returning to civilization the witch reached out to the mirror and mumbled her name: "Hermione."

It was like an affirmation in how the name escaped her lips, full of hope and anticipation that she was on the right path. She wanted to know about this woman and the life she must have once lived. She knew there was no chance she could ever become that witch but perhaps with time she could forge the two: the identity of her past and the one she now encompassed.

"Come on 'ione!" A little voice shouted from the hallway and silently she left her room, following after the gaggle of children as they bounded off to breakfast. Downstairs, Hermione was inside the large dining room Madame Wright had shown her during the tour. Only now the space was bustling with life as children of all ages were clambering into their seats at long benches and tables. The sight drew a memory from her past but it was more like a fleeting image: an ancient castle's great hall with its ceiling dotted in floating stars. Unlike her initial interaction with many of the children most did not turn away from their food for very long to notice her although some of the more astute young werewolves gave reverent nods to their older counterpart. She nodded back, as if granting them permission to continue their morning meal.

She spotted several individuals closer to her age and made eye contact with one of them. A young man with dark brown hair and tan complexion, he turned to whisper to his two companions and the man and woman beside him followed his gaze. After only a few seconds he waved her over and despite her hesitation Hermione accepted the invitation.

"So you're the new girl," he greeted as Hermione cautiously took her seat. There was a friendliness in his voice that matched the warmth of his broad toothy smile. "Name's Tobey and these two are Aisling and Killian. The pair beside him each possessed thick black hair and blue eyes; their nearly identical features confirmed their relationship even before Tobey added that they were twins.

"I can see why the pups were so fascinated with you," he said between sips of tea. "What do you two make of her?"

"Do you have a name?" The young woman named Aisling asked, ignoring Tobey's question. Her expression wasn't nearly as inviting as the other werewolf's had been but the lack of smile did not bother Hermione. The human gesture of baring one's teeth as an act of friendliness would take some time for Hermione to grow reacquainted with as the wolf within instinctively saw this as a signal of threat. Though her comprehension of language was still adjusting, the repetitive practice with Lupin of such details at least meant she could answer this one.

"Hermione," she replied. The young woman watched as those around her eagerly grabbed food from the communal plates, everyone eating with varying degrees of civility. Madame Wright and several other staff members casually walked up and down the rows of tables, correcting those who had forgotten how to use their utensils or snatched food from their companion's plate.

"It's been awhile since we've had a feral join us," Tobey said and Hermione frowned as she tried to understand the words.

"They say you came in from the wild," Cillian said and noticing her confusion, added "The forest?...Home?"

There was something about the word home that resonated with Hermione and if nothing else she understood what the dark-haired man was trying to convey. Indeed, the trees and sprawling meadows appealed more to her sense of belonging then the walls and artificial lights of humans. Home. It was the rushing waters of a spring thawed from the winter's cold and the feeling of mossy stones under the pads of her feet.

"We came from the wild too... Don't worry, it will get easier." Aisling said and there was empathy in her voice that Hermione found reassuring.

Hermione watched the others eat a little longer before doing the same. Her hand immediately followed her nose as she took several pieces of ham with her bare hands. Unlike the hospital's bland tasteless food, she was happy to find the meat delicious and perhaps the first satisfying meal she had consumed in some time. She could not hide the predatorial way she ate her food, guarded and ready to defend her meal. The three other werewolves looked between themselves but said nothing of their newest company's eating habits.

She was peculiar, in more ways than one, but perhaps there were no other individuals more suited to understanding what it was like to be a wolf in sheep's clothing.


	6. Chapter Five

**[Author's Note]** I love seeing all the questions and guesses dear readers! And kudos to anyone who caught Tobey's appearance. He is a beloved recurring character from my fic Savage Heart. This will be a slightly shorter chapter but I promise more soon! As always, your kind reviews are immensely appreciated

* * *

 **Present Day  
** **Lupin Residence**

Remus Lupin sat at his desk, brow furrowed in contemplation as he reviewed scroll after scroll in search of answers. He had dedicated a great deal of his time and energy to helping his fellow werewolves over the years but there will still details that continued to evade him. It didn't help that save but his own notes there was next to nothing on empirical studies of his kind. Most of the books published by wizards on werewolves served as nothing more than large paperweights.

His soft brown eyes fixated on the bolded title atop the parchment: Pack Hierarchy Magic. Underneath it were only a handful of lines, words he himself had written and therefore Lupin knew they would offer little insight.

 **PACK HIERARCHY MAGIC**  
 _ **Werewolves possess their own form of magic that is shared within a pack and guarded in mystery. The purpose and extent of the magic requires further investigation.**_

Lupin's lack of understanding had not been for lack of effort. He travelled a great deal of places over the years, studying packs with the intent of unlocking this elusive element of his kind. But he was never truly accepted into the groups he followed and as Lupin himself was not a member of an pack he could only witness the magic from the outside. They would permit his presence with one level of wariness or another but no one ever divulged much. He was not entirely sure if this was out of secrecy or simply that they too did not know the complexities of their magic.

What he witnessed transpire between Hermione and the children several days prior was his first true glimpse at the magic in action. Why had the children responded so dramatically to her presence? Could it have been they innately understood that she was somehow different from them? And how was that so? What _made_ her different from all the rest? He had asked several of the children later that day for an explanation but they all simply shrugged.

"She's strong," one of the younger werewolves replied as he flexed his own scrawny muscles and growled playfully. The other children nodded and giggled amongst themselves. After several tries for a more elaborate answer Lupin eventually sighed and dismissed them back to their play.

"Still working hard, love?" A voice came from the doorway of Lupin's office. Tonks, the older werewolf's wife, leaned casually against the frame. Her lithe frame was shrouded in the billowing cloth of her Auror robes; with a shock of purple hair tendrilling down her shoulders, the brightly colored tresses framed the delicate features of her face. Lupin smiled and there was nothing but sheer happiness in his eyes as he rose from his seat to greet her. Embracing her in a hug and kiss, he welcomed her home. It was mid-morning but it wasn't uncommon for his wife to come and go due to the odd hours she kept as an Auror. She often was called away in the late evenings to help with cases, returning in the early hours of the morning. Such was the case today and judging from her tired expression Tonks had felt every bit of her long shift.

Absently gesturing to the piles of paper on his desk, "I wish I could say I was making any sort of progress."

Tonks glanced at the materials and her vision fell to a closed folder with a picture of Hermione on it. The image had been taken during her intake at the hospital and the enchanted picture showed the young woman pacing the frame, her dark eyes narrowing at the camera in angry suspicion. "How's she doing?"

"A little better each day," Lupin replied. He tossed another half-opened scroll on top of the image to escape the piercing stare of the photo's subject.

"Good to hear. Do you think she might be up for a visitor soon? I'd love to see her if you think it wouldn't be too much on her for me to stop in. Maybe I could bring Teddy by too," Tonks said with a cheery hopefulness. Lupin knew she had felt immensely guilty at not stopping in to check on Hermione since she had arrived at the Artemis Home but Lupin had stressed the importance of letting her settle in for a few days before introducing visitors-even if that guest _was_ Tonks.

Lupin smiled, "I think that would be nice."

"Speaking of which, where is Teddy?" Tonks asked.

"With your mother, she picked him up after breakfast to run errands. They should be back by lunch." Lupin replied and his wife nodded. It was a common routine for the doting grandmother to take their son for the day and . Teddy was a rambunctious child on the cusp of his sixth birthday with large brown eyes and ever-changing hair color. Like his mother he was a Metamorphagus, gifted with the ability to transform his appearance on will alone. Nothing gave him greater joy than transforming his face into various farm animals-much to the admonishment of his grandmother. The elder woman by now had gone through her daughter's similar antics when she was young yet to the elder woman's exasperation that wasn't to say Tonks was beyond such things even now either.

"Sounds good, I am going to go crash. These back to back missions are killing me," she said with a yawn.

Lupin gave a loving smile and kissed her before consulting his tarnished pocket watch, "get some sleep dear. I best be off to my staff meeting."

And so shortly after he set off across the estate's property to the nearby manor. He could have Apparated the distance but preferred the walk as it gave him time to collect his thoughts and prepare for the day's agenda. He had already made his early morning rounds, checking in with the overnight staff to ensure all had gone well during the evening hours. His employment as director of operations had been nothing short of serendipitous. Finding work had not been easy for Lupin despite his impressive work ethic and broad knowledge of various subjects. It wasn't until the dusts of war settled did he finally see the first glint of opportunities present themselves.

After a quick role call of the staff in attendance of the meeting, Lupin went straight into the items of importance. Curriculum updates for the week, any incidents or recent developments worth noting. They went through each resident's files, one by one addressing their current progress. By now Lupin had each of forty werewolves and their files memorized but still followed the formality of discussing them with the team.

"The full moon is in five nights," he said. "Have the wards been tested recently?"  
"I'll take two volunteers to help me fortify them today, sir," said a staff member in the back of the room.

"Excellent, thank you Jack. Make sure to double up on them; our newest resident Granger has only recently started taking Wolfsbane and we don't want to take any risks especially after the close call we had last month."

It was hard for the former professor to refer to Hermione so clinically but in this meeting she was just like any other of their residents only in her particular case certain precautions seemed necessary. Everyone nodded in solemn understanding, recalling collectively the damaged ward that nearly left the western side of the property an open escape for a curious werewolf. Thankfully the error had been caught and no trouble came of it but the fears still lingered. Beyond the walls of the Artemis Home Lupin knew all too well how little protection was afforded their kind. He, was of course, concerned that the residents in their wolf forms might endanger others if they were to get out but he also knew they too could be at risk of attack or worse by a world of those who didn't understand them.

As the rest of the meeting went on it eventually drew to an end. No sooner had the staff been dismissed then a House Elf appear with a gracious courtesy. "A Mr. Malfoy is here in the sitting room to see Master Lupin."

"Thank you Clementine," he replied and just like that the small creature was gone in a soft pop. He didn't much care for the mantle of "master" but his leadership role at the Artemis Home by proxy put him in charge of the House Elf staff as well.

Lupin wasted little time in locating the arriving guest. The familiar young man sat scowling faintly in an oversized armchair, his steely gaze fixated to the lush scenery outside the window. There was a proudness to his sharp features and reminded Lupin of when he had first met Draco Malfoy. The boy had been bright but petty as Lupin's student. However, hindsight granted the former professor a sense of forgiveness for the young man's childhood transgressions.

"Good morning, or I suppose afternoon I should say. I hope you weren't waiting long," Lupin greeted although the smile was not reciprocated from the tow-headed man.

"I waited long enough," he replied curtly, rising from his seat. "Can we hurry this up? I have more valuable ways to spend my time that hanging around this Merlin-forsaken place."

There was plenty in which Lupin wished to say but as a man of mild-manners he simply nodded, extending his arm in the direction of the hallway. "Very well, this way please."

* * *

 ****

 **Five Years Prior**

"Tell me," Hermione said but her words were frail and all but a whisper. She wasn't sure how many days had come and gone only that when her health had begun to unravel it had not taken long for her to become this terribly weak.

"You are going to die," Greyback said. There was strange gentleness in his tone that Hermione did not expect from the monster. He pushed a strand of brown hair away from her face and the touch of his fingers felt like ice against her fevered skin. The witch inhaled a long haggard breath and when she exhaled it drew a sharp cough that felt like a stabbing sensation in her chest. What should have been a painful truth to hear only seemed muffled, like a conversation inside a dream one tries to recall upon waking.

Only this was not a dream. The trees that surrounded them and the cold earth beneath her were quite real. As was the passive unreadable expression of the last person she would ever see. Greyback's glowing eyes watching her with a closeness that might have at one point unnerved her, only now she did not have the energy for such mental exertion. The infection had taken hold not just her leg but her entire body as well.

The Brightest Witch of Her Age was to die not in a fiery battle fighting for the good of humanity. Nor would she leave this world of incredibly old age surrounded by loved ones. No, she was to perish as a young woman in a far off land because of something so mortal.

So disappointingly _human._

She closed her eyes because by now even the weight of her eyelids felt too heavy.

"There is one option, witch," Greyback said slowly. "The full moon is in two nights."  
"I can't," she whispered but there was no conviction in her voice. The words tumbled from her lips purely out of reflex.

"That is your choice," the werewolf replied. "There is no guarantee you would survive the transformation."

 _Or that she would even make it to see the night of the full moon,_ Hermione thought to herself. For a long time she could only hear the crackle of the fire and her own pitiful breath. She was curled against wall of their makeshift shelter, an a-frame structure that kept some of the night wind at bay.

"Will I still be _me_?" She eventually asked but by now her mind had already been nearly made up.  
"But better," he answered. "What I offer isn't a curse. Regardless of what your wizarding world considers it... this is a _gift_."

She wasn't sure of going so far as to calling lycanthropy a gift but the mystery in his words was more so than that the chance at survival, however slim, was what truly guided her decision in the end. She wanted live more desperately than she wanted to die weak and crumbled on some forest floor. The reality of the Fates' scissors perched over the thread of life was enough for Hermione to fathom how fiercely she was willing to fight for this existence.

So she did the unthinkable.

She invited the Wild in.

"I want you to do it," Hermione said quietly. "Change me."


	7. Chapter Six

**[Author's Note]  
Greetings readers, I apologize for the delay. I was recently accepted into grad school (YAY!) and in preparation of that I have had very little time to write. However, I have been outlining the future chapters and I am very excited to share how the story unfolds. It takes a lot of planning to make sure all the pieces come together so I appreciate your patience. Seriously, thank you all who are following along! I read each review and the support continues to inspire and motivate me. **

**PS I haven't had a chance to edit this chapter in full. I will fix the errors in the morning but I was too excited not to post this.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Sometimes the night wakes in the middle of me  
And  
I can do nothing  
But  
Become the moon.  
 _\- Nayirrah Waheed_

* * *

"Thank you again for stopping by," Lupin said as he escorted Draco Malfoy from the meeting room they had just occupied. The young man nodded stiffly, a gesture of feigned politeness. It was clear the wizard had no keen desire to spend even a moment longer in his current company.

But just as they turned a corner heading down the long stretch to the manor's main entrance Draco froze in his steps. The residents of the Artemis Home were done with their morning routines and filing into the dining hall in small groups. However Lupin quickly realized it was not the sight of young children and adolescents that had halted the former Slytherin where he stood.

He knew at once that Draco had recognized the young woman with unruly brown hair leaving a room. She was trailed by two residents her own age and a staff member. Hermione paused, sniffing the air. Her eyes scanned the vincity and narrowed as they landed on Draco. Suddenly a dark shadow crossed her demeanor, a quiet snarl tugging at her lips. If there was any doubt whether she remembered the adversary of her youth it was quickly confirmed by her next reaction.

Hermione moved too fast for the staff member, Draco or even Lupin to respond appropriately. Moving at renatural speed and dexterity she closed the distance between her and the pureblood wizard. With one powerful arm she pinned him by his throat to the wall, stealing the air from his lunges. Draco, while momentarily caught off guard, instinctively reached for his wand to defend himself. The faster and stronger of the two, Hermione snatched his arm and dug her nails tightly into his skin until he released the wand. There was a clank as it hit the ground.

"Foul...cockroach," she hissed.  
"HERMIONE!" Lupin bellowed, the normally soft-spoken man yelling in alarm. Both the staff member and the older werewolf attempted to pull Hermione off before she could suffocate her victim. She released her grip on Draco's throat just long enough to swing at Lupin in retaliation. Acting quickly now Lupin retrieved his wand and struck Hermione with a stupefy spell.

At once she crumbled to the ground, unmoving. Even unconscious she wore a fierce scowl that betrayed the violence she had just unleashed. Everyone seemed momentarily paralyzed by what had transpired.

Draco clutched his neck, gasping for air. He grabbed his wand and quickly took several defensive steps away from Hermione as though worried she would awake at once to continue her attack. Lupin, although sure the young woman would be out for at least a short while, found himself doing the same.

"What in the bloody name of Merlin was THAT!" Draco said with barely contained rage. Despite the stress of the moment a part of Lupin ruefully expected the young man to add _"my father will hear about this!"_ However there was no smile on his face. He had just witnessed Hermione try to kill someone without hesitation.

"Are you alright?" Lupin asked. "Matilda can see to your injuries in the infirmary-"  
"Are you not going to tell me why I was just attacked by _her?_ What is she even doing here!" Draco snapped, not about to be redirected from the question at hand. The younger man crossed his arms, his posture straightening. Despite his sympathy for the would-be victim, Lupin was not intimidated by his demeanor.

By now they had an audience. Curious residents peered from the dining hall while the staff member that had been with Hermione along with her two peers, Tobey and Killian, were helping move the unconscious woman to the infirmary.

"It is not at my discretion to discuss her with you anymore than I could discuss any other individuals here," Lupin said in a quiet tone. His calm eyes regarded Draco closely and as if understanding an unspoken message behind the words. Those that came to the Artemis Home were afforded a certain level of privacy; while Draco wanted to demand further explanation he knew none would be provided.

"Fine," he said with a huff. "Have it your way. See to it that she is properly managed in the future unless you want a lawsuit on your hands."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Malfoy?" Lupin asked calmly, his use of the title mister sounded more like an adult addressing an impudent child than an exercise in decorum. Draco glowered.

"Consider it a warning to the wise; Granger is apparently more mental than she was when I knew her in school."

And at that the wizard turned his back and stalked off indignantly. Lupin still wasn't sure whether those words were going to result in any direct action from the wizard's family. He was relieved that Malfoy had not persisted further. No one knew Hermione was a resident at the Artemis Home and he had hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible. She needed space from the public eye in her recovery.

In any case he knew he was going to need to take better care that such a close call didn't repeat. Either way Lupin anticipated there would be an angry letter arriving by Owlpost before long. Leaving behind the retreating figure Lupin went down the opposite corridor towards where he knew the others had taken Hermione.

"Thank you for your assistance, gentlemen," Lupin said to Killian and Tobey just as they were leaving the infirmary. They gave a cryptic look between themselves before Tobey spoke.

"Will she be alright?" He asked.  
Lupin nodded, feeling a pang of shame that the situation had escalated so quickly. Using stunning spells was considered a very last resort in their establishment and the older Lupin understood that his decision might have eroded the trust and rapport he tried so hard to build with the youth of home.

"Yes, it was only a temporary spell. Did she say anything to either of you before she attacked?" Lupin asked but he already anticipated their answer.

"No, sir...but Hermione doesn't say much though," Killian replied. The young man's sharp blue eyes were looking at Lupin with curiosity as if he might hold the answer to why their new friend had gone berserk.

"I figured as much, well thank you again. Please go get yourselves food in the dining hall before it closes," Lupin said and the two younger werewolves bid their good-byes. Walking into the infirmary, he gave a polite nod to the medic nurse before pulling a chair to sit beside the infirmary bed currently occupied by Hermione.

It didn't take much guessing for him to piece together why she had attacked Draco Malfoy. After all, they had been at opposite sides of the war and even before that, likely as early as their first year of Hogwarts, they had feuded. Werewolves were known to be aggressive by nature and at least several times a day Lupin and his staff members found themselves breaking up fights. Sometimes the wolf's impulse to fight overrode the human's ability to reason. For those like Hermione that still struggled to reconnect with their humanity this was particularly true.

He wasn't pleased with himself for stunning her; they had procedures at the Artemis Home to de-escalate crisis situations. But in that moment Lupin saw nothing but blind fury in Hermione's eyes and _he_ had reacted on instinct. Perhaps if he hadn't the situation might have ended with far worse consequences for all parties-particularly Draco.

As Lupin expected it wasn't long before Hermione revived. He had just enough time to collect his thoughts when her eyes fluttered open, casting a wild look around the room. Immediately she looked down at her hands and expected them to be shackled as they had been on several occasions at St. Mungos.

"We don't use mechanical restraints here," Lupin said softly. Her eyes narrowed at him as she sat up. The medic witch paused in filing paperwork in the corner of the infirmary, waiting to see if she was going to be needed. Hermione was tense but she didn't move to hurt Lupin.

"Also we do not attack our guests here either," Lupin added. "I understand you and Draco Malfoy have had a very difficult past but I cannot allow you to ever attack him again."

Hermione gave him a challengingly glare. Silent or not, her defiance was understood.

Lupin sighed in mild exasperation, "there is a lot you need to learn, Hermione. A great deal has happened in your absence. Perhaps in time you and Mr. Malfoy could even learn from one another-"

But just then his words were cut short by the harsh voice of the fiery female werewolf. Her amber eyes shone with an intense fire as she chose each word with deliberate and immense effort: "He is not worthy to be one of our kind."

It shouldn't have been a surprise to Lupin that Hermione had uncovered Draco's nature. While the wealthy wizard had gone to great lengths to hide his lycanthropy it was something most perceptive werewolves could sense in another. Lupin should have been pleased by Hermione's sudden use of a full sentence and would have praised her efforts if the topic of their conversation did not require his full attention. What sort of rabbit hole was this discussion going to lead? Up until this point no one had any inkling of the thoughts Hermione harbored in her head or her perception of her condition.

"What do you mean by "not worthy"?"

"He doesn't deserve the _gift_ ," Hermione said with continued strain as if it required all her strength to form the words in her mouth.

Lupin's mouth went dry at her description of calling lycanthropy a gift. Never once in his lengthy life had he considered his condition to be a gift. Certainly it afforded him a unique perspective but not quite a gift in the sense she was emphasizing. Lupin couldn't shake how the coincidental choice of words reminded him of someone else. A dangerous loathsome creatures that had haunted his childhood nightmares...

The older werewolf wanted to press further but was just then interrupted by a sudden arrival. "Is everything alright?"

Harry entered the spacious bay with a concerned look as he regarded Hermione in the infirmary bed. He still donned his auror robes and by the looks of it had hurried from the headquarters straight after. She immediately slid off the side of the bed and went to greet him with a hug. "Harry," she murmured happily.

"Everything's alright, there was a bit of scuffle but all is fine. Hermione has assured me there won't be any repeated events."

The female werewolf had made no such promise but she simply cast a look over her shoulder before leading Harry out of the room in haste. It was clear Lupin wasn't to be one of her favorite people for a while to come and he accepted that. He would need to build their trust again and hopefully she would eventually tell him what had happened.

 **Five Years Ago  
**

She was fading in and out of consciousness but awoke to the sensation of a cool wet rag on her forehead. Hermione opened her eyes and saw Greyback staring back at her, his eyes were a more intense gold than ever before. In her haze she guessed this meant that it was nearly time for his transformation..

"It won't be long before the moon rises," Greyback said, confirming her thoughts. "Are you prepared? There is no going back after this."

Hermione was aware but her choices seemed simple: live as a werewolf or die as a witch. Between the two Hermione would pick the former. And yet she couldn't help but appreciate faintly that the werewolf had given her the power to make the decision herself. This gesture undermined the hatred she had towards him and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. He had taken so many lives but now he was to be the one to save her's. She had watched him murder an innocent person and yet even so he was the one who had kept her alive in the remote wilderness of their predicament.

Above all Hermione hoped she would live long enough to reconcile these conflicting impressions.

Her vision blurred and she felt each ragged breath in her chest but with all the energy she could muster Hermione willed herself to keep holding on. She could no longer see Greyback but distantly, as though she was straining to hear underwater, Hermione could hear sounds that were not entirely human. The snap of bones and the harsh echo of a man's voice yelling out. Was it pain? Rage? Or a mixture between the two?

And then there was silence.

Hermione was slipping once more into the oblivion of unconsciousness when the booming werewolf's howl drew her back to the waking world. It was such a powerful, haunting sound. The witch forced her vision to focus and she saw the advancing blur of a wolf approach. Up close the creature was enormous and there was no mistaking it for a normal canine. His grey fur glowed a surreal silver hue in the bright light of the full moon but it could have been Hermione's delirium that gave him that glowing aura. Without thinking Hermione reached out and touched the soft fur on the werewolf's chest; perhaps it was the fact that her life was already on the cusp of death that she did not fear repercussions for petting him. She knew that at any other point Hermione would have been utterly terrified of such a beast. This was the first time she had ever been so close to a werewolf. Her mind faintly recalled the brief encounter she had with Remus Lupin on Hogwarts grounds. Whereas the poor professor had very little control over his senses in that instance, Greyback stood in front of her with a calm that might have otherwise been considered docile.

He regarded her hand with an inquisitive tilt of his canine head that would have been endearing if not for the fact that this wasn't a playful puppy in front of her but the infamous Fenrir Greyback.

"Okay," she exhaled and closed her eyes, bracing for the pain. "Let's do this."

Hermione didn't want to see but she could feel the wolf's hot breath as he loomed over her. He bent down and with one measured bite sank his sharp teeth into her shoulder. The witch yelled in agony as the magic of the bite consumed her instantly. Every cell in her body felt as though it was on fire, threatening her skin to combust. She could hear nothing else but her own hoarse voice screaming in the night air.

She thrashed, her head slamming against the earth with such force Hermione wished it would have knocked her unconsciousness if only for a reprieve from the pain. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, even the torture inflicted upon her under the deranged Bellatrix Lestrange paled in comparison. It blinded and deafened her to the world around her even though she could feel Greyback's fur beneath her hand, a sign that he was still at her side.

 _Stay calm, witch..._ A distant voice called to her. Only it wasn't really a voice but rather a familiar presence in her mind. A projection of soothing intentions. Somehow she recognized the presence to be Greyback. _Surrender to the pain, embrace it._

Hermione Granger had never surrendered to anything in her life but as each moment drew on and the torment ensued she tried to steady her breath and find something to keep her afloat in the waves of pain. She focused her mind on the sensations afflicting her as though it was a distant experience.

She could not have been sure how long it lasted. Perhaps hours or maybe even just several minutes. When Hermione regained her vision she slowly sat up to find that her surroundings had changed. Greyback was nowhere to be seen and the forest had given way to an unfamiliar field. Hermione looked down at her body and saw her ragged clothes had been replaced with glistening white robes. Her injuries were gone and Hermione felt whole-at peace.

For a brief moment she considered that she was surely dead. Hermione had not given the afterlife much thought up until this point but even in passing musings this was not what she had imagined.

There was a lone person standing in the middle of the field and as Hermione approached she could see it was a woman. Dressed in similar white robes the unfamiliar woman turned and welcome Hermione with a loving smile. The woman wore a crown of golden chains upon her brown plaited hair. Upon closer inspection Hermione could see beads of moonstone intertwined with the woman's braid.

"Hello my child," she greeted. Hermione was not sure what drove her to kneel before the mysterious person, only that her instinct compelled her. It was as though she moved under some sort of Imperius curse but she did not fight the sensation. It didn't feel like a circumvention of her free. The gesture felt right.

"Rise so that I may look closely at you," the woman said and Hermione did so. The woman inspected her with open curiosity; she was older but there were no distinct signs of aging in her face. There was something altogether comforting in her presence. Maternal even.

"Who-who are you?" Hermione asked once she could find her voice.

"I am the mother of all those that feel the moon's call," she replied with an ethereal tone.  
"I don't understand. Does this mean I dead?" Hermione asked. She thought she would have felt disappointed, angry even, that she had not survived the transformation. However it was because deep down she innately knew she had not died. But did this mean she was dreaming? Was she in the middle of a vivid hallucination brought on by the lycanthropy's onslaught?

"Oh no my dear, your life has just begun. There is no time I am afraid. You must go now, your destiny awaits."

The woman kissed Hermione's forehead.

Hermione couldn't reply as the moon above them grew brighter and brighter until it consumed everything in sight. Her vision went white and when the light cleared she was back in the familiar setting of the forest landscape. Whatever bizarre dream had just transpired was quickly dispelled by reality. Greyback was standing now, nudging her in the side repeatedly with his muzzle. It wasn't until she felt the sharp sting of his fangs on the nape of her neck that she realized he was dragging her to her feet.

Except she didn't possess feet. The weight of her new body was held upright on four massive paws of her own. Once the cloud faded from her conscious mind she couldn't help but rejoice; she had survived her injuries and the transformation. While exhausted from undergoing her new body's changes, Hermione felt undeniably healed.

Instinctively she let out a howl of joy and was surprised by the sound of her new voice. Hermione felt Greyback's gaze on her. If wolves could smirk he would certainly have done so. Had she ever felt this alive before? Every sense was heightened beyond any human threshold. She could hear the snap of a twig miles away as a forest animal scurried by and the symphony of nocturnal life greeted her with astounding clarity. Every scent was new and inviting and begged to be explored, driving her thoughts in a million different directions.

Strangely, Hermione still felt _present._ She was aware of her identity as a young woman but it was coupled now with this new fascinating presence. The part of herself that was wholly wolf. And right now in this instant it was _this_ side that held the reigns. Hermione found herself willing to relinquish control, to given in to the animal's impulses.

Greyback was already bounding off into the darkness to chase the trail of nearby prey. Hermione didn't need to think, she was already force of her paws took her into the cover of the trees with blinding speed. In another life hunting would have made Hermione the witch cringe but she was no longer that person. As her new body took her faster and faster from her original location, she found herself speeding away from her old self too. This realization should have frightened her but it didn't.

She couldn't be certain of who she had become in the moonlight that night, only that this new self was exhilarating. And for the first time she didn't fear the darkness of the night, instead the shadows enveloped the wolf like a warm embrace. It felt as though she was coming home.


	8. Chapter Seven

**[Author's Note]  
** It's always very exciting as a writer when you get a story that essentially writes itself. That has very much been the case with Untamed; I have pages and pages of notes and outlines all eager to be put to the page. I wanted to say as always I really appreciate the support. I have given myself a deadline of two weeks to write out as much as I can for this story as I am not sure what free time I will have once grad school starts. Your encouragement goes a long way though so thank you again for the wonderful reviews.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

 **Five Years Prior**

Hermione awoke as the first tendrils of daylight crept across the rocky underhanging she found herself in. It was still a hazy darkness but even in the shadows she realized something was not right. At once Hermione was horrified by her utter lack of clothes, curling her legs to her chest as if to provide some measure of modesty. It was only a few seconds later that she recalled the events of the night prior and her transformation. Not only had she survived but her wounds were healed and her fever was gone. She felt exhausted but more importantly Hermione was whole. There was something quite surreal about escaping the grim reaper's grasp.

 _At least for now,_ she thought pessimistically before banishing the thought. Her mantra for the past year and the one she had drilled into Ron and Harry in their journey had always been to focus on the present.

Greyback must have heard the rustle of movement behind the rock structure because he appeared just outside the barrier. "She lives," he greeted.

"Don't look!" Hermione yelled in panic, trying to further cover her bare skin. She had wanted to sound assertive but instead her voice came out as a shrill squeak. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes darted for any sign of clothes.

"Clothes are overrated," he retorted but kindly turned away.

"I beg to differ. Now where _are_ my clothes?"  
"You mean those rags in the corner? They would make better kindling for fire at this point, pet." Greyback didn't turn back around but instead gestured to the small pile nearby. He was clearly unimpressed by the witch's sense of modesty.

"Don't call me that," she said as she scanned the area. Upon inspection of what remained of her clothes she saw they were in fact rubbish. While covered in dirt and blood, at least before the shirt and pants had been _something._

She groaned in frustration. Of course Hermione had not possessed the strength or clarity to undress prior to transforming (and it would have been mortifying if Greyback had taken upon himself to do so) but as a result she was now completely nude. _Well almost,_ she thought drily to herself. The only salvageable item in her wardrobe was a shredded pair of jeans. She ripped off the dangling pieces until they resembled shorts. _At least I have my bottom covered._

"Here," Greyback said. He removed his shirt (clearly someone had prepared their clothes for the full moon the night before) and tossed it over his shoulder at Hermione's direction.

"I don't want this," she answered before realizing that wasn't true. A shirt was a shirt but being difficult with Greyback just came as reflex.  
"Must you insist on being a pain in the arse? Just take the damn thing," he said in exasperation. The werewolf threw up his arms and walked away from the underhanging. Hermione rolled her eyes but accepted the gift, pulling the stained shirt over her tiny body until it enveloped her nearly like a dress.

She couldn't help but notice how it smelled of him. _What is that smell?_ She wondered. Notes of blood and sweat but also other aromas that her human mind couldn't process because it was altogether foreign _._ With her heightened senses Hermione was aware of hundreds if not thousands of different scents now. It was overpowering. And if she wasn't too embarrassed to admit to herself, _intoxicating._

Hermione shook the troubling thought from her mind and tried to refocus. Now at least feeling somewhat presentably dressed she stepped out from the underhanging to where Greyback perched on a boulder. She tried to follow his gaze but wasn't certain what it was he could be looking at in the heavy forests around them. They had somehow ended up in a completely new area during the night, perhaps even farther from civilization then they had been. There was no way of knowing and the uncertainty was more than a little frustrating for Hermione.  
"Are you sure you won't be cold?" Hermione asked as she sat down next to him. Up close Hermione could see that his tan skin was marred with scars so intricate they looked like the patterns lightning makes in a stormy sky.

He scoffed, "I don't get cold."

She wasn't sure if that was a werewolf thing or the words of a bullheaded man but she didn't request elaboration. Instead she sat in silence, her knees drawn to her chest.

"Thank you for the shirt," she said eventually, feeling the slightest twinge of remorse that she had rejected it initially. His golden eyes flickered to her and he gave a nod before returning to the view.

She hesitated before continuing, not sure of the right words to say exactly:  
"And for everything else really...thank you for saving my life. You still haven't told me why you did it but...nonetheless I am grateful."

"Perhaps when you return to your people you can tell them what I did for you. Put a good word in on this wolf's behalf," he said with a faint smile and Hermione was surprised by his request. What did it matter to him? His lengthy list of crimes would continue to proceed him no matter what. And besides what did Greyback truly want? Absolution?

Hermione recalled his words from one of their earlier arguments. He had talked about the world not being black and white and for the first time Hermione was beginning to perceive that there was gaps of gray too. She knew very little of his motives for saving her or for fighting alongside Voldemort, or furthermore for anything he had done in his lengthy life. But ever the inquisitive and persistent person that she was Hermione was determined to find out the answers. Only then would she decide what kind of person Greyback really was.

"I will," she agreed softly. While Hermione had reacted with surprise to Greyback's suggestion, he had responded to her words with equal amazement. For a long time after that they simply sat in mutual silence, watching the morning sun rise over the canopy of trees together as neither friends nor enemies.

They began their hike shortly after grabbing what meager supplies they had collected. The long walk gave Hermione a lot of time to reflect on her previous night's ordeal. She remembered pieces of her transformed self like the sensation of running at blinding speeds and the way the earth felt under her paws or the taste of a rabbit's blood in her mouth. It hadn't felt strange then and even now Hermione found herself detached from the idea of such up close and personal hunting. Whereas only just days before she would have found it crude and by it, having left such things to Harry and Ron on their time on the run, now Hermione was completely nonplussed by it. In fact the idea of steak tar tar didn't seem quite so unappealing as it might have once been.

Admittedly, Hermione also vaguely recalled bits of her lucid surreal dream of the woman in the field. She was half-way tempted to talk to Greyback about it before abandoning the idea altogether. She didn't believe in mysticism no matter how real it had felt. Besides, there were some things that felt a little too embarrassing to say aloud to someone she didn't really know very well and going on about a weird dream fell into that category.

Hermione felt as though they spent hours constantly descending and ascending terrain that was not entirely forgiving. It did not help that she no longer had shoes to wear and felt every bit of the sharp stones beneath her. She was grateful when they approached patches of mossy grass and cool wet earth, giving her feet a needed reprieve. Greyback had offered his boots as well but it was obvious they were many sizes too big.

"I could take them off in solidarity?" He joked.  
Hermione hopped agilely from one mossy patch to the next, slightly pleased with herself. Having been constrained by her injuries Hermione couldn't help but appreciate the freedom of mobility. They had been walking for hours but neither person seemed winded. Hermione couldn't help but notice that since her transformation there felt a distinct change in their dynamic. For the sake of their survival the duo had the unspoken truce not brought up the war or the opposite sides they fought for. It didn't mean Hermione had forgotten the reality that awaited her, only that needed to focus on what it would take to get out of this situation and that meant working with the Death Eater's resident werewolf.

"Really not necessary. Besides this isn't so bad. I would say it's a fair trade for being able to walk again," Hermione replied.

"I would not argue against that," Greyback said. He watched Hermione take another jump on a distant patch of grass, bounding over several sharper boulders without any effort. He himself moved nimbly but not quite as fast as his more eager companion. Despite whatever animosities they harbored, Greyback was discretely pleased that Hermione had not only survived her first transformation but flourished. While he had informed her there had been a chance she would not have lived through the bite Greyback had not disclosed the truth that the mortality rate was actually quite high for first time transformations. He believed grimly it was nature's way of ensuring only the strongest survived.

"The gift suits you," he remarked. Hermione was balancing on a tree log but stopped herself immediately at his comment as if realizing the immaturity of her antics.  
"I still don't know what to make of these changes," she answered honestly. Hermione was aware that since becoming a werewolf herself they seemed to have found some mutual ground. Or at the very least they were not arguing as much, mostly because Hermione depended on learning everything she could from Greyback. "Everything smells overwhelming for one thing."

"You will grow accustomed to it. Mostly anyway. I don't particularly care for cities, it can be maddening to the senses.."

Before the mess of the war broke out and her life derailed Hermione had envisioned herself living in a London flat after graduating Hogwarts. High above the hustle and bustle of daily life but still close enough to feel the pulse of the city. She wondered now if such a whim would ever be possible. Hermione tried to imagine existing with these new abilities if what Greyback said was true. Would the bright lights be too jarring now, could she stand the smells and noises that made up city life?

 _I am getting ahead of myself_ , Hermione thought. There would be no charming London flat just yet, and perhaps not even a guarantee that Hogwarts would still be standing whenever she returned home. Her mind jumped from one conclusion to the next and it wasn't long before she was thinking of Harry and Ron. What would they think of her knowing she had become a werewolf and furthermore that she had done so by choice? For certain Harry would take no issue but Ron however was a different matter. She was aware of his prejudices. He had grown to like Professor Lupin and see past his lycanthropy but she knew he was still scared of things he didn't quite understand. Hermione could picture him in her mind clearly, his blue eyes full of uncertainty and perhaps even disgust, as she told him of what she had become.

"If they can't accept you they are not worthy of your friendship," Greyback said in response to her thoughts.  
"Are you intruding on my mind?" Hermione said with a bristle, her eyes flashing with indignation as she stopped in her tracks. Her postured straightened as she planted her fists on her hips. Greyback quirked an eyebrow at the young woman's stance even as she raised her voice. "Stop that at once!"  
"As much as I was really enjoying the saga of your life, it wasn't intentional," he said with a bored drawl, continuing to walk several lengths in front of her. Although despite his calm demeanor, he cast a cautious eye in her direction as if expecting her to throw a rock at his head. "You were projecting yourself very loudly."

"Projecting? What do you mean? What on earth-"  
As if to abate the growing onslaught of questions that he knew were bound to flood him, Greyback raised a hand to make her pause just long enough for him to explain. "Our kind has its own sort of legilimens among one another. It is strongest when we are in wolf form or communicating with pack members but sometimes it happens accidentally."

Hermione would take better care to guard her thoughts in the future but for now she was resigned to the fact that Greyback was privy to at least one of her mounting insecurities. However, Greyback did not tease her nor say anything further about her unspoken concerns. So she was eager to move past that as the topic at hand raised more questions for the new werewolf.

"Does the bite...are we somehow connected now?" Her words came out in a jumbled mess as she gestured to her shoulder. Hidden from view but already healing, the large canine teeth marks where she had been bitten still had a faint silvery shimmer. Hermione knew she should have asked these sort of questions prior to becoming a werewolf but somehow it hadn't occurred to her when she had been in the middle of dying. But still, Hermione recalled reading a chapter in her textbook about werewolves preferring to claim their victims for life. Hermione wondered painfully what sort of contract had she signed with her soul.

"Yes, I own you now," he said with feigned menace and laughed at Hermione's horrified expression. "I am pulling your tail. It's not like that. There is a connection in a sense of the word but one that can be strengthened or weakened by either party. Some wolves shut themselves off from the connection altogether. In packs it is essential to survival; we can feel each other's presence even across great distances and know when one of our own is hurt. Bonding is another matter and a far more serious ritual of our kind."

Hermione was absorbing this new information with immense fascination, her mind bubbling with questions. Before she could inquire further, Greyback obliged a more elaborate explanation. "Marriage isn't a common practice in pack life. While a werewolf may choose a mate only the Alpha pair will be Bonded in ritual and have children. The ritual Itself signifies that if either werewolf should die the other will lead the pack without ever taking another mate.

"That sounds tragically romantic," she answered, almost to herself. "But why are they the only ones that may have children?"

Greyback paused briefly, perhaps realizing he had been speaking very transparently to the new werewolf about customs and rituals that were extremely guarded outside the pack. He had no expectation that she would join him and the pack he lead (albeit now scattered across the UK upon the Battle of Hogwarts). And yet why did he find it so easy to tell her these things? What meaning would they hold for her if she simply skipped off to live as a witch. He didn't hold his breath that this young woman would honor her wolfside once she was reunited with her wizarding kin. And yet despite his reservation he replied, perhaps out of obligation to the young woman's beseeching expression.

"Because only the Alpha's are able to bear healthy children."  
"Oh," Hermione said with a thoughtful frown. She realized that she actually had never heard of an infant werewolf and now she knew why. They didn't really exist. The young woman was not sure how she felt about that discovery; while motherhood had always been a very distant and abstract idea Hermione felt a pang of sadness that it was all but an impossibility now. Just like her silly dream of a posh London flat, the rite of someday raising children had become a shooting star in the night sky, blazing past her life's trajectory and disappearing into the abyss.

"You are making that face again," Greyback said and mimicked her scowl. She rolled her eyes but continued to ruminate over what she had been told. Unsurprisingly, Hermione knew very little about werewolves. Save but a few brief pages in her school textbook, the realm of lycanthropy was a vast mystery. What information existed on them was mostly conjecture recorded by wizards. _Perhaps I can fix that,_ Hermione thought as the wheels in her mind began to turn. She had been a werewolf for precisely one day and already she was envisioning herself as some sort of would-be ambassador and researcher of lycanthropy. Hermione supposed there was worse ways to spend one's time and energy.

Hermione decided to move past the fleeting sadness and focus on learning all she could about her new condition, spending the next few hours of their trek tirelessly grilling the tall older man about everything there was to living among a werewolf pack.

* * *

 **Present Day  
Artemis Home  
**  
Harry apologized for not visiting the past few days but as they sat inside the comfort of the home's expansive library Hermione didn't seem fazed. She hardly seemed aware of the wizard's presence. Sinking into the warm leather of an armchair, her fingers fluttered over the same fairytale book Harry first brought to her back in St. Mungos. Harry couldn't help but notice that she always seemed to linger over the same story of Beauty and the Beast, rereading the tale over and over. What did she like so much about it he wondered but everytime he asked Hermione merely stared back at him with her amber unblinking eyes.

"I know I haven't been able to stop in much but I've been hearing you are settling in nice here," Harry said. He wanted to tell her the full story of his absence, that his missions as an Auror had kept him on a nearly nonstop cycle of work, but decided Hermione likely wouldn't understand. There was so much he wanted to tell her since she had been gone like that she had missed his graduation from Auror academy or his engagement to Ginny and all the other far smaller milestones he had hoped his friend could have witnessed. He shook off his thoughts, regrouping mentally. "I have been getting owls saying you're talking more too. I bet it won't be long before you are feeling like your old self."

As soon as the words left his mouth he felt embarrassed. Did he sound too eager? Harry knew it was selfish to want his best friend back but he couldn't help it. Her recovery was important but it felt like the void of her presence over past five years needed to be filled with new memories, new experiences as the trio again. Harry was hopeful that he, Ron and Hermione would still be a team just like that always been.

"Not same," Hermione said quietly.  
Harry looked at her with puzzlement, "wha-what was that?"  
"I not the _same,_ " Hermione repeated, drawing each word slowly with a struggle. Why were human words so hard to vocalize? Her sharp amber eyes met Harry's azure ones with a pang of sadness that she was unable to communicate fully to him. There were so many thoughts she wanted to express to her old friend but the most important was that he knew the truth. It felt as though they were both trapped with their individual notions of what they wished for the other.

The old Hermione Granger had died five years ago. The werewolf knew this much to be true with absolute certainty.

"You're not the same?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded firmly.

Whoever she was now was someone entirely new and different. Neither entirely human nor entirely wolf. Hermione felt the sooner Harry realized this the sooner he could let go of whatever hopes he harbored for Hermione's future. With one last imploring look at Harry, Hermione closed her book and tucked it under her arm. She gave him a reassuring pat on his arm like she had seen other humans do and left the library without another look behind. If the curly-haired woman had turned she would have seen the look of utter disbelief across Harry's face as he watched the retreating figure.

Apparently, Hermione's stunt in the hallway with Malfoy had earned her the center of attention among the Artemis Home's channels of gossip. By the time dinner had rolled around half the manor's residents believed that Hermione had shifted into her wolf form and was said to have ripped her victim from limb to limb.

"I mean sure we were there and saw what really happened but who wants to spoil the pups' imagination," Tobey said as Hermione, Ainsley and Killian sat together in the dining hall with full plates of food in front of them.

"Who's to say that _isn't_ exactly what we saw anyhow," Killian said with an indulgent smirk, loudly enough so that a handful of adolescents near by started whispering fiercely amongst themselves.

Aisling rolled her eyes before turning to Hermione, "we don't much care for him either."

Hermione touched Aisling's arm, projecting the thoughts she couldn't vocalize. How desperately she wished she could communicate with Harry in the same fashion. Projecting mostly sensations of utter contempt for the blonde-haired man, she knew the hatred harbored from a distant focal point in her past. Hermione could not place her exact reason for despising the one they referred to as Malfoy only that his presence evoked her animalistic fury. She could deduct that she had known him before and that he was Hermione the human's enemy and worthy of the werewolf's contempt.

Aisling nodded to this silent exchange and Hermione was grateful she could communicate without words to her werewolf brethren. _Some_ , she amended. It was impossible to make such connection with the older werewolf Lupin. The others had said it was because perhaps he wasn't as much wolf as them and she surmised the same. Hermione could not understand why the man seemed to run from his true self but that seemed to be a matter of discussion for a different time.

"Ai's right; that bloke Malfoy thinks he's better than the rest of us because he's got all that money from his mum and daddy," Tobey said mockingly after taking a swig from his cup. "One of these full moon's I hope he comes here and I will show him-."

"As if that would ever happen," Killian interjected and Tobey shot him a sharp look. Killian ignored it. "The only reason he stops by now is to get his wolfsbane and check on how things are running," Killian said, adding the latter part for Hermione's benefit. "His family founded this place. To most it just looked like a publicity stunt to help fix their family's tarnished name after the war but I heard from staff it was really because his family wanted to fund a cure."

They all shared mutual annoyance at the preposterous notion of a cure for lycanthropy. One of the reasons Hermione liked the three werewolves was that they didn't care for the idea that they needed to be fixed in the first place. Even though her life felt increasingly confusing as she waded through this foreign existence of humanity, she didn't ever want to deny who and what she had become.

The wolf within her was as much a part of her identity as her curly hair.

 _It is a gift to be blessed by the moon's light; we mustn't run from the shadows it cast_ , she thought to herself remembering the strange words she had been told by someone else long ago. It was impossible now to put a name and face to the words and this made her inexplicably sad. Even after dinner when everyone retired to their rooms the sadness continued to haunt her. She laid awake and stared at the ceiling, straining to remember _anything_ beyond the point the Aurors had found her on the fringes of the Forbidden Forest cold and terrified only weeks ago.

Why did her mind continue to keep memories from her, Hermione wondered, feeling as though she was standing before a locked door. She imagined just beyond the threshold lied all the answers to her sleepless nights and restless dreams if only she could find the key to unlock it. It was several hours later that exhaustion finally overtook the werewolf, rescuing her from the frustrations of her unknown past.

The last thought that occurred to her before she fell asleep was the simple question that so many had already asked: What happened to Hermione Granger?


	9. Chapter Eight

**[Author's Note]  
My husband asked me what I was giggling about this morning and it was entirely to do with the amazing reviews you guys left me. I love the questions and hearing what parts you enjoyed the most of each chapter. Seriously, it makes my day if not my week! In other news I have gone and made a tumblr: .com so please free to connect with me on there. I will be sharing snippets, aesthetics and answering questions over on that page.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

"You have to be kidding," Hermione said, crossing her arms in clear objection.

"What's the fuss, pet? It's just a little jump," Greyback said with a devilish grin and a twinkle in his golden eyes that Hermione pointedly refused to find endearing. And yet somehow he managed to make her smile. That was the pull he had on her even though she wouldn't acknowledge this fact to anyone least of all herself. A part of Hermione felt guilty for enjoying his company and their long days of trekking. It was grueling and exhausting to climb through the terrain but she enjoyed learning what she could from Greyback. In addition to being her link to life as a werewolf, he had a great deal of knowledge about surviving in the natural world.

It was hard to imagine that it had been weeks since fate set her on this course with Hermione falling through a hole like Alice tumbling into Wonderland. Only she wasn't guided by a chipper white rabbit rather a tall blond werewolf with a dangerous history. And there was the _minor_ detail of him being allied with the Death Eaters or that despite their truce Hermione wasn't sure he wouldn't turn her over to Lord Voldemort if given the opportunity. _Emphasis on minor details,_ she thought drily to herself each time this conundrum crossed her mind.

"Little? That has to be at least 15 meters. Forget it, Greyback. There is no way you are going to get me to jump," Hermione said with a tone of finality that only seemed to goad the other werewolf more.

"Is that so?"  
"Yes," she said jutting her chin at him. For Hermione it was pointless to try to match his gaze squarely as Greyback towered over her but she tried to at the very least carry herself with a presence that demanded she be taken serious. Clearly Greyback was immune to such.

The source of their disagreement laid before them. Standing on moss covered boulders they were quite a distance above the natural pool below. The beautiful azure waters and the nearby waterfall were quite inviting after their long walk in the heat of the afternoon but for Hermione the risk was not worth the reward. She thought surely the man who had spent a great deal of his lifetime outdoors would agree with her sentiment. However, apparently Greyback was also more adventurous than she would have predicted.

"I am not about to go breaking my leg again," she said.

"That's very responsible of you. I bet you're lots of fun at parties, pet," Greyback said, growing more amused by the moment as Hermione huffed.

"I've told you to stop calling me that," Hermione said but there was no bite behind her tone. However, ever the notorious wallflower at any social engagement she did bristle at the insinuation she was no fun for the simple matter she knew he was right. Hermione had found herself the de facto caretaker of both Ron and Harry since they were eleven-years-old and old habits died hard when it came to being the responsible level-headed one.

But even so she wasn't going to let Greyback get away with that comment.

"Fine. I will show you fun," and Hermione felt a surge of uncustomary mischief as she grabbed him by the arm. There was no time for him to react as she leapt off the boulder, taking him with her and plunging them both into the cool waters waiting below.

As they both broke the surface, Greyback still donned a wide grin only now he was clearly feeling triumphant. "See, I knew you had it in you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and splashed him but she was smiling too. The young woman closed her eyes and floated on the surface of the pool for several long minutes. The frigid water felt good after the many hours they had spent walking under the sun. There were storm clouds on the horizon though and a promise that the heat would soon be replaced by rain. She credited her newfound senses to the fact that she could smell and taste the difference in the air by the approaching weather.

It felt strangely empowering to possess this ability, among other things. She peppered Greyback with questions constantly, taking mental notes of all the important details that came with being a werewolf.

 _You need to find a balance between the wolf and human,_ he had told her in one of their many lengthy conversations. _That is the problem with your "domesticated" werewolves, the ones that try to assimilate with the wizards because they forget how to be a wolf. They fear their primal side. Each full moon becomes a power struggle between the two rather than coexistence._

Hermione had thought of Remus Lupin at the time, a man she knew was deeply tormented by his condition. He was nothing like Greyback she had noted as well. Whereas Remus was gaunt, pale and carried himself with the concealed exhaustion of a man fighting his personal demons each full moon Greyback seemed to balance between the two identities. It was plain to see he felt no shame in what he was underneath the mortal guise. However Hermione constantly reminded herself that Greyback was not be the pinnacle of being a werewolf: he had a lengthy list of crimes to show for that, one of which had been turning Lupin into a werewolf.

There had been several occasions Hermione had wanted to ask him directly about why he had done what he did to not just Lupin but countless other children over the years but the timing never felt right. Internally, she was annoyed with herself for not bringing up these uncomfortable conversation points but Hermione also knew their alliance was a fragile one. They still needed to make it out of the endless forest and it was easier to do so if they didn't actively despise one another.

And maybe deep down Hermione didn't want to hear his explanation. In her heart she knew it would never suffice for the horrors he had done. It was easier to separate the villainous Greyback persona with the witty wildman in front of her if she avoided going down certain avenues in her mind.

 _At least for now,_ she convinced herself.

It was a short while later they set up camp a few meters off the river embankment. Greyback worked speedily setting up a simple a-frame from gathered logs while Hermione made a fire. After watching Greyback numerous times she was finally catching on in the finesse of creating those first precious embers. It wasn't as quick as an incendio spell but she was just as satisfied with her creation as the flames licked the gathered brush, combusting into a steady-burning fire.  
Greyback gave an approving nod as he finished the last details to their makeshift home.

At first she had hated sleeping even in the same vicinity of him but now Hermione didn't think much of curling up against Greyback back to back. She told herself it was the wolfen instincts that she now harbored that made it more appealing and nothing more.

"You have been quiet," Greyback remarked as he sat down opposite of Hermione. Dusk was fast approaching and the light of the fire highlighted the tapestry of scars across Fenrir's bare chest. Hermione was embarrassed to admit she found them fascinating.

"Sorry," she said.

"Oh I wasn't complaining," he retorted with a playful tone but Hermione's mood didn't change. After a moment he asked, "is there something on your mind?"

"Asking that is a bit like opening up pandora's box, don't you think?" Hermione said but winced slightly at the harshness in her own voice.

He said nothing. While Greyback's smile had faded his expression remained calm and empathetic. He had shepherded Hermione into this new existence of being a werewolf with surprising patience. It made her realize why he was such a compelling leader among his pack. Not just for his ferociousness but his capacity to build confidence and loyalty in others was what made him a powerful Alpha.

"Who are you really, Fenrir Greyback?" She finally asked, the words coming out before Hermione could stop herself from letting them escape. Apparently the conversation she had wanted to evade was springing to a head by her own compulsiveness. _Why couldn't I leave this well alone?_

"The loathsome beast or -"

"Prince Charming?" He offered with a crooked smile.

"I am being serious," she said with a stern look. They were not discussing storybook characters.

"As am I but I couldn't help the metaphor. What is it you wish for me to say to this? Is it so hard to comprehend that one can be _both_? I have done a great deal many things that I consider necessary evils and I don't hide that."

She wanted to argue that there was no such thing as a necessary evil but even now Hermione was not so short-sighted as to believe that. In her young life Hermione had not been a saint, doing what needed to be done to keep both her and her loved ones safe. _But there is no comparison,_ Hermione wanted to tell herself.

"But why You-Know-Who? Why do you fight for the Death Eaters?" She finally asked the question that lurked in her mind ever since she had grown to like Greyback. Hermione did not want to admit that it was confusing that the man who had saved her had also been the one to cause so much havok in her world. She didn't want him to be _both_ the hero and the villain because if she saw humanity in him Hermione feared what that could mean in the grand scheme of fighting this war. It was easier to do battle with one's foes if Hermione could see them as harbingers of evil.

"I don't fight for them, I fight with them and there is a difference, pet. There are many of our kind that look to me for their protection. Protection from a wizarding world that would rather see them in shackles or dead then ever call them equals. We are less than second class citizens in your world. My people must fight for the basic dignities of life. Can you understand that? The struggle to find your place in a world that doesn't want you there. My allegiance to the Dark Lord is based on the fact that he promised us change and a future we can be a part of."

Hermione wanted to tell him it wasn't true but how could she deny his words? How could she deny the reality of his world when she had merely just entered it herself. Hermione had seen from a distance the troubles that the Wizarding world inflicted on those with lycanthropy. Lupin could never keep a stable job because of his condition, not even in the protected position of professor at Hogwarts. When they had married, had Tonks not told Hermione their struggle to even get a marriage license because of Lupin's condition? It pained Hermione to know there was likely a great deal of truth behind Greyback's conviction.

The young woman promised herself things would be different when she returned. She would advocate for them and surely she could convince Harry and the others to as well. Hermione would use her voice to get their needs met. She would show Greyback that there was another way. Even in Hermione's head these thoughts felt naive but she didn't care.

"Whatever he promised you have to know won't happen," Hermione said softly, it wasn't meant to be an insult but rather a gentle plea. She couldn't imagine any sort of utopic future under the reign of Lord Voldemort and when Hermione looked into Greyback's eyes she saw he had his own doubts as well.

"It was the best chance my kind had at prosperity," Greyback replied in earnest. "I do not regret fighting for it."

"Was?" Hermione asked, wondering if this meant the werewolf did not think his side had won. She could only hope for as much but she kept that to herself.

"I suppose we will have to wait and see what waits for us," Greyback said.

Hermione was beginning to see the world from the Alpha's perspective. She could never sympathize with the Death Eaters for obvious reasons but understood the responsibility Greyback had to his pack. Hermione couldn't fully speak to the cruelties of the wizarding world only that she had witnessed enough of it through the plight of Lupin and even the house elves to know that there were moral oversights to her Ministry's sense of justice and basic rights.

Neither spoke for some time. It wasn't until night set in and the symphony of crickets chirping filled the air that the tension began to dissipate.

"Do you feel that?" Greyback asked and Hermione didn't need to reply as she felt the change in pressure and the smell of rain approaching. They moved to the a-frame structure just as the first drops of rain pelted the earth. It wasn't long after before the rain came down with more intensity and the crack of thunder echoed through the trees. There wasn't much room in the shelter, just enough that they could both lay down. With the warmth radiating off of Greyback laying beside her Hermione didn't long for a blanket.

Hermione couldn't be certain she hadn't accidentally projected herself as she had earlier. However, if Greyback was aware of the full gamut of her conflicting feelings about him he kept as much to himself. Despite her worries she was eventually lulled asleep by the quiet rise and fall of Greyback's body beside her. 

* * *

**Present Day  
Diagon Alley**

"Thank you for coming," Harry said.

"I should say thank you for the invitation," Lupin replied warmly. "It has been awhile since I have gone anywhere other than the hospital and the home. I was glad to receive your owl. I know we didn't get a chance to talk during your last visit with Hermione."

"Sorry about that," Harry said sheepishly. "I had meant to track you down afterwards but I was summoned back to work."

It was a quiet afternoon in Diagon Alley and the cafe they chose to meet for tea had no other guests save Harry and Lupin. The nondescript location meant there was no chance of Harry being recognized; years after the war it wasn't all too uncommon for the war hero to be bombarded by thankful citizens. As the owner brought by their orders, Lupin wore an expression of paternal pride admiring Harry's auror robes.

"Your mum and dad would be quite proud of the man you have become Harry."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck reminding Lupin even more of his deceased father James as the young man said thank you.  
"I am sorry I haven't kept up more with you and Tonks," Harry said. Indeed the famed Boy Who Lived had let his relationships languish since the war ended. Even though he saw Tonks in passing at work, they operated in different jurisdictions but he knew that wasn't the full reason he had kept his distance. When so many of his loved ones had died, to include Hermione, Harry had thrown himself into his Auror studies to pay penance for his inability to save the lives that were lost. He imagined that Lupin's owls had been among the many Harry had ignored in that time and this caused him guilt now that he could see his life a little more clearly..

It amazed Harry still that Ginny had stuck by him in those years, no matter how moody and distant he had been she had saw him through it all.

"It's quite alright, Harry. Perhaps when you are less busy you could stop in for dinner and see Teddy," Lupin said graciously and Harry emphatically agreed. Lupin drew his briefcase to the table, retrieving several files as their meeting turned to more pressing matters. "Now I wanted to discuss a few matters with you about Hermione's condition."

Harry looked over the documents with a furrowed brow, "so all of this means she is doing good then?"

"Yes, she has definitely made a lot of progress. Fewer aggressions and she seems to be fitting in well with the others. Hermione has even begun talking more. So this is all wonderful progress for sure."

"But does she remember anything yet? About what happened at the Battle or where she's been all this time?" Harry asked the question that had been looming in everyone's mind. He recalled something the doctors had told her at St Mungo's about the possibility Hermione had suffered trauma so badly it had caused her to break from reality. Or perhaps just as troubling someone had oblivated her mind and left behind a shell of the former witch. Either way, it drove Harry mad to not have the answers of what had befallen his friend.

"I am afraid she doesn't have any recollection of what happened just yet but there was something she said the other day that caught my attention," Lupin said. Carefully leaving out the detail of _whom_ Hermione had attacked, Lupin recounted the interaction he had with Hermione in the infirmary. "She said something about this person not being worthy of the _gift._ "

"And you think she was talking about being a werewolf? Harry said to which Lupin nodded. The younger man couldn't help but notice the grave lines in the older werewolf's expression as he went on.

"I have only heard one other person use those exact words before," Lupin said and for a moment he was haunted by an image of a looming white wolf. It was the same figure that had taken residence in his nightmares since childhood. After a long pause Lupin met Harry's gaze evenly, "Fenrir Greyback once said them to me."

"No," Harry said as he tasted the bile rise in his throat. Underneath the table Harry clenched his hands into fists until he could feel his nails draw blood. Of course Harry, in the days after Hermione's deliverance back to their world, had asked himself over and over how she had become a werewolf. Somehow it was easier to cope with believing it had been some unknown creature and not the hellacious minion of the Death Eaters. But the more he mulled over this revelation in his mind the more it gathered creedence. _We never did find Greyback,_ the Auror thought to himself.

Sensing Harry disappear into his own world, Lupin cleared his throat and tried to press on. "We need to consider the possibility that she was kidnapped by him."

"If he's out there I will be the one to bring him in," Harry vowed with a tone of venom. In truth, the former professor wished for nothing more than to see that turn, Lupin promised he would do everything he could to help Hermione; if what they believed was true then it was hard for either of the men to fathom what she might have endured in her time away.

When Harry and Lupin finally parted the young Auror went immediately back to his office at the ministry. Learning of his friend's misfortune left him feeling helpless but Harry was determined to remedy that by finding the one who had inflicted this upon her. Sending a patronus to Ginny with an apology that he wouldn't likely be home in time for dinner, Harry told himself he would have to explain the details to her later and was thankful she would understand.

His office was small but symbolic in his rise through the ranks of the Aurors. It was uncommon for someone so new to the force to already have their own space but Harry had proven himself to his command countless times in tracking down dark wizards. Harry didn't like to boast though and worked hard so he could be seen for his merits outside of simply being the Boy Who Lived. All the awards and accolades he received through the years were kept in a modest cabinet hidden from view. The only personal trappings of his office were the handful of pictures on his desk and the obligatory plaque with his name and rank perched for guests to see when they sat down.

Immediately he went to work digging up old case files that might get him started on where to find the elusive menace known as Fenrir Greyback. According to his cursory search the Ministry had marked him missing but presumed dead. Only that meant little to Harry now, knowing the same had been said for Hermione up until a few weeks ago. Harry would continue to search through anything that resembled Greyback's penchant for violence and chaos. It was mostly dead-ends but that was to be expected. No one had truly been looking for the infamous werewolf in the past few years; perhaps he had changed his attack pattern or gone dormant. Later Harry would broaden his search to international outlets and see if there were any details that matched Greyback.

 _All of this would be easier if only Hermione could tell us what happened,_ Harry thought sadly. He knew that neither Lupin or him could be entirely certain of whether it had been Greyback who had changed Hermione but at this point it seemed likely. He wanted justice for Hermione and for Lupin too. And all he needed was the smallest breadcrumb to lead him in the right direction. Even a subtle clue as small as a grain of sand in investigating could lead to the proverbial beach. All Harry needed was that single lead.

Before Harry could get too situated there was a knock at his office door. Chief Inspector Savage let himself in carrying a scroll under his arm. "The secretary said you were in, Potter. Figured I would drop this by and let you have a look."

"Yes sir, what is it?" Harry asked, taking the scroll from the superior officer. Chief Inspector Savage had been on the force long before Harry had even gone to Hogwarts and held himself like a man who had weathered both the good and bad over his significant tenure. Short and stocky the older wizard wore a military fade haircut and greying mustache. His boots were always polished and his robes finely pressed. Despite his gruff exterior he had been kind to Harry through the years, mentoring the young Auror in his early career.

Harry opened the contents to see the reports even as Chief Inspector Savage spoke, "Two missing in Camberley and another in Upton. All three of them were registered lycanthropes."

"Have the local authorities been involved?" Harry asked, absently going over the procedural questions as he scanned for details

"We are trying to keep this one quiet for now," the Chief Inspector replied. Harry nodded; it wasn't entirely uncommon for certain cases to be be handled discretely until more evidence could be uncovered. Harry knew involving the press and public too soon could kill a case. "I'll look into this, sir."

With a short nod the older Auror left. Meanwhile Harry stared down at the scroll and began to wonder if there might be a connection between the missing werewolves and his new search for Fenrir Greyback. It was time to follow the breadcrumbs.


	10. Chapter Nine

**[Author's Note]  
I know, I know my dear readers you are so eager to know what happens but I promise you all in good time. There is a lot left to be seen! But do keep those guesses and questions coming as I love reading each every single review. Just a note in case you did not catch last chapter's announcement but I have a new tumblr (check bio for link).**

 **One last thing, a lot of reviewers ask why Remus Lupin is referred to as Lupin. Quite simply my reasoning was that is how Rowling refers to him throughout the series. I did not think it would cause such a stir but I understand that the fandom may have a preferred stylization (I am certain most fics may call him just Remus). Personally, I felt Harry would still refer to him as Lupin just as he did in the books out of habit and respect for his mentor. Again, I didn't think this would be such a point of contention as I still call my good friend and former high school teacher by her last name even a decade later. At any rate, I appreciate the critiques nonetheless and always appreciate the dialogue!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 9  
**

* * *

 **Present Day**  
 **Malfoy Manor**

Draco Malfoy was quick to Apparate from the Artemis Home, crossing through the property's gates and disappearing into the afternoon in order to return his family's estate. He reappeared just outside the Malfoy Manor's main driveaway and rather than summon for a carriage he veered off towards the gardens in haste. He was not ready to speak with anyone and hoped the fresh air would calm his nerves. The gardens had been there for nearly a century and had served as a sanctuary for Draco for as long as he could remember. He remembered as a small child ducking out of his homeschool studies to hide in the sprawling hedge maze. It was comprised of rose bushes and sweet-swelling jasmine that even now put him at ease.

The adrenaline of the attack still scorched his veins and left him feeling on edge. His visits to the rehabilitation home were always unpleasant but this one had been made worse when he was accosted by ... _Hermione Granger._ He had not anticipated seeing her on his routine trip to Artemis home. His visits served a two-fold purpose: as acting chairman of his family's charity he personally saw to it that the home continued to run smoothly and more discreetly his appointments at the home afforded him therapy for dealing with his condition. While neither aspect of these visits were preferred, seeing his old nemesis had not been something he would have predicted.

He did not have the fondest memories of the former Gryffindor and their dislike for one another was certainly mutual and yet... The hindsight of adulthood had softened his contempt for the know-it-all witch. Clearly however it had not done the same for the other party.

His worldview had changed in significant ways over the years after the war; Draco had been pardoned by the Wizengamot for his participation in the war and had done his best to make more positive contributions in society. That was part of why the Artemis Foundation had been founded in the first place. The Malfoy name needed to be tied to something other than those bleak years of his past.

As the officials cited during his hearing, Draco had been but a child forced to commit crimes during the war.

Draco knew that was only partially true. He had done a great deal of terrible things under the torment and coercion of the Death Eater's deranged leader. That part was very much correct. But he hadn't been a child blind and naive of the consequences of his actions. More specifically, Draco knew he would be haunted by the decisions he had made in those years for the rest of his life.

Which was why Granger's attack had felt like cosmic retribution, like a vengeful spirit coming back to punish him for all he had gotten away with as a young unwilling Death Eater. He could still feel the pressure of her grip on his throat, the shine of her unnatural eyes glaring back at him.

Once the terror of the moment had passed Malfoy could think more clearly. He recalled the newspaper headlines from weeks ago that had spoken of Hermione Granger being found alive but in need of lengthy medical recovery. With no accompanying picture or explanation, it made sense now why her friends in high places had covered up Hermione's true conditions from the public.

 _No_ , he convinced himself. Hermione was not a ghost sent to exact revenge for his unpunished crimes but clearly a mentally unstable werewolf. Somehow the reality felt no less foreboding.

 _I suppose it would not do well to reveal the famed war heroine had become a feral werewolf,_ Draco thought to himself drily. He thought of his own secret and the damage it would do to his family's standing in the pureblood world if others knew what he too had become. Absently Draco itched his right arm where the faint silver scars of the bite still existed as a permanent reminder of his dual identity. Indeed adulthood had given him a certain measure of empathy that he would not have had in his younger years. Draco decided to keep knowledge of Hermione's condition to himself.

He continued to replay the attack over and over in his mind. Under her gaze Draco had felt paralyzed in a very literal sense. It had been as though his entire body had betrayed him. Not just under mere fear but like the weight of a powerful magic had commanded him not to defend himself. And the accompanying push against his thoughts had been unnerving.

Not a word but a sensation, a mental command: _Submit._

 _Had that been Granger?_ He wondered but already was aware of the answer on an intuitive level. Draco possessed skills in occlumency but this was different. His mental shields had been superseded altogether by a unique and unfamiliar force. Try as he might to ignore his other self, the wolf that dwelled just beneath the surface, Draco knew at once that the mental powerplay had been real. The wolf within him had responded according to whatever magic existed among werewolves.

Draco admonished himself for not knowing that such a thing was possible among those of his kind. He did not like the feeling of powerlessness and amended he would demand Remus Lupin tell him everything in their next meeting.

Eventually when Draco had cooled off and his mood had settled he went inside the manor where his mother was waiting for him. Narcissa Malfoy was a tall slender woman who's blonde hair was kept perfectly coiffed in the traditional aristocratic updo of a pureblood witch. Only the lines of concern revealed that she was older than she looked.

"My dear are you alright? The house elves told me you had arrived but I saw you go to the gardens," Narcissa said softly as she gave her son a brief embrace.

"I am fine, mother. I just needed to clear my thoughts," he said.

"You look pale, are you ill? It's getting close to the full moon, have you taken your medicine?" She asked as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Draco recoiled slightly from her gesture, waving off her concern.

"I said I am _fine,_ please mother." His words were short as he tried to reign in his agitation. Draco knew his mother meant well but he did not want the attention. He stepped towards the sprawling staircase leading up to his quarters. "Have the house elves hold any letters that come in from the post today. I am tired and do not want to be disturbed."

"You received two owls while you were away," Narcissa said, following at Draco's heels as he went to leave. "One was from the Greengrass family wishing for you to come visit soon-."

"I am not interested," he said flatly. Draco knew any visit to see the Greengrass family would mean he would also see Astoria Greengrass, the family's beloved youngest daughter and a woman Draco loved with all his heart

Which was all the more reason he could never be with her.

Thanks to his curse there was no future with him. Even if Astoria could accept Draco for what he was, he could not bare the the thought of putting her in harm each full moon. What sort of life would that be? _She deserves so much more_ , Draco thought to himself in sad resignation

"Draco…" His mother said his name with such tender understanding that it made the young man stop. Neither spoke but the silence was deafening. Narcissa knew there was nothing she could say that would ease the sorrow her only child felt each and every day. She felt the weight of his pain just as though it was chained to her own heart.

"You said there was a second owl?" Draco asked, moving on from the topic.

"It was from a group called the Knights of Walpurgis, they wished to set up a meeting to discuss partnering with the Artemis Foundation."

"I have never heard of them," Draco said wearily but added, "However I will reply back later. Thank you, mother."

And at that he retreated up the stairs and into his wing of the home. Narcissa watched the figure of her son disappear, wishing there was more she could do for her child who seemed so lost in the world.

 **Five Years Ago  
Bialowieza Forest**

The following morning,neither Hermione nor Greyback had spoken about the previous night's conversation. Perhaps they both knew it did not matter which side they fought for if in the end they were both trapped in an endless sea of trees. At first Hermione had found her environment oppressive as though the foreign land was going to swallow her whole but each passing day it had begun to feel more like home. She welcomed the soothing sounds of wildlife even at night and as Greyback had predicted her heightened sense of smell had even become more desensitized to the natural world.

She still thought of Harry and Ron daily, trying to envision in her mind their faces not painted with the concern and fear of her disappearance but as they had been before the war started when life had felt easy.

 _Easier,_ she amended silently. _As if life had ever been been easy for us,_ Hermione thought to herself. To the steady trudge of her forest march, Hermione would imagine what she would say to her closest friends when she was reunited again. The young woman thought of she would explain to them that the loathsome Fenrir Greyback had saved her. That he had proven himself an ally in her struggle for survival. How would she tell them of how she became a werewolf? That he had bitten her by her own choice?

The questions danced in her mind continuously even as she pictured Ron turning to Harry to say Hermione "had gone mental". Would they come to understand? Hermione mulled this over and over again.

"You care a great deal about what others think of you," Greyback remarked and Hermione was startled by his voice breaking the long silence.

She frowned, both because she did not like his assessment nor did she appreciate the fact that he had been eavesdropping on her thoughts again. But before she could chastise him for the latter, Greyback said plainly.

"Again, you project loudly. I would have to be _comatose_ to ignore you and even then…"

Hermione sighed. "There has to be a way to turn this off," she said waving at the space between the two of them.

"And you are wrong about me," Hermione added defensively. "I _don't_ care."

But that was not true. Indeed, Hermione cared a little too much. Greyback, ever perceptive, saw that. She might argue that she only cared what Harry and Ron would say but Hermione honestly wondered what the world at large would do when they found out. It was hard enough to face the stigma of being muggleborn. Hermione constantly felt the insecurity of having to prove herself worthy of her place in the magical world. Would it be even harder now that she was a werewolf?

Greyback stopped walking and turned fully to the young woman at his side. "You should know you are worth more than all of them," he said firmly. "And you shouldn't give a damn what the world says. Their opinion means little compared to how you view yourself."

Hermione met his golden eyes with mild surprise at his conviction. "Thank you."

Greyback smiled sincerely and it gave Hermione butterflies, forcing her to look away quickly in embarrassment. As they began walking again Greyback was about to say something further but paused, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

But before he could reply there was a sharp crack and suddenly Greyback pushed her hard, sending Hermione into the brush. In horror Hermione saw a large tree truck had swung down on them like a battering ram.

It was a trap.

The full weight of the weapon hit Greyback, knocking the large man to the ground with such a sickening force that Hermione held her breath in fear that he was dead.

"Greyback!" She shouted in panic, rushing over to the fallen werewolf. He did not stir and as she knelt by his side Hermione was afraid to touch him less she injure him further.. "Fenrir, please wake up."

Already now his bare chest was beginning to swell from the impact of the trunk in a grotesque pattern. She checked his pulse and was relieved he was still alive. Her eyes darted to see any signs of an assailant, daring them to make a move. It was a short few minutes later that she heard the trudge of movement in the brush.

"Show yourself!" She shouted.

Four centaurs revealed themselves. An unbidden snarl escaped her lips as her fight or flight instinct kicked in. Crouched beside Greyback's unconscious body she took the dagger he kept on his hip. The wolf was awaken.


	11. Chapter Ten

**[Author's Note]**

 **Please mind the errors I might have missed I plan to go back over this chapter later.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

* * *

 **Present Day  
Artemis Home**

The full moon was only three days aware and all of the residents at the Artemis Home were feeling the forces of it. Tempers were shorter and everyone was feeling restless as the air became thick with the buzz of magic. The staff had allowed for shorter lessons and more time outside in the hopes to lighten the mood of the werewolves with only some measure of success. As older members of the household, Aisling Tobey and Killian enjoyed the privileges of being able to do work around the manor in exchange for a stipend. It was not much, Killian had told Hermione, but it was more than what they would have received in the outside world. The end goal for every resident in the manor was to go on and lead prosperous and independent lives but getting there was no easy feat. As non-lycanthropes were transitioning from the safety of school to vocational trainings and secondary schools, holding down jobs in the ministry and other sectors of the magical world, Aisling, Killian and Tobey were playing catch-up with many of the skills their wizarding peers would take for granted.

As part of today's work the three of them were outside tending to the orchards, Hermione was happy to join them if only to escape the stuffy confines of the manor's interior. Hermione appreciated the ample fresh air and smiled with her eyes closed as she faced the afternoon sunshine.

It had been several weeks since she had arrived at the stately manor and while the forest still felt more like home then the grandeur of the property she now lived in, Hermione had acclimated to her new surroundings as best she could. Most of her days were spent in a variety of lessons and tasks that kept her busy through the days, punctuated by the frequent visit of Harry or Ginny.

On several occasions Tonks had stopped by and brought with her Teddy. Hermione was enthralled with the small human and his rainbow colored hair. He had the faint scent of a werewolf but mostly smelled of graham crackers. Teddy would regall her with animated stories of his adventures and while he spoke in such a hurried air Hermione couldn't understand him very well she thought he was completely delightful.

The only person who she had not seen since coming to the manor was Ron. He would not have crossed her mind if Harry did not bring up the person so frequently, mostly in an apologetic tone. Hermione had pieced together that the person she had snarled at in st Mungos had once been someone dear to her in the past. All she knew now was that he had reeked of fear and an unmistakable undertone of disdain and pity that Hermione found abrasive to her wolfen senses. Regardless of their past she didn't much care for the man's presence now.

"Hermione, mind handing me that basket?" Aisling asked and broke Hermione from her thoughts. She glanced towards the large fruit basket beside her and walked it over to where the other werewolf stood on a ladder. Beneath the wide arms of an apple tree, Hermione watched in curiosity as Aisling held out what appeared to be a stick and swished her wrist carefully. At once an entire branch of apples jostled from the tree and landed in a neat pile inside of the basket Hermione was still holding.

Hermione dropped the basket in slight alarm.

"Oh sorry about that," Aisling said sheepishly. Killian and Tobey were standing by a nearby tree and paused in their tasks to see what the mild commotion was about. Hermione had seen people around her use the same device to invoke strange things and it fascinated her. _Wand_ , the word sprang to her mind suddenly as she recalled vague images of wielding one.

Hermione extended her hand expectantly and Aisling climbed down the ladder with a cautious frown. Her light blue eyes darted around to see if anyone else was looking. "I don't know about that. Mr. Lupin had to teach us how to use these very carefully."

"Please," Hermione said with her hand still outstretched. In her observation this word seemed to hold weight among humans. As the werewolf pups had told her over lunch once it was a 'magic word'.

And sure enough it seemed to have worked. Aisling gave another conspiratorial look around them to make sure none of the staff were around. Killian and Tobey had now approached just as Aisling placed the wand in Hermione's hand.

"I am not so sure this is a good idea," Tobey said with equal nervousness as Aisling. Killian said nothing and merely watched Hermione with silent curiosity-although he did have the sense to stand a meter or so behind Tobey.

Hermione regarded the fine grain of the wood, feeling the familiar weight of the wand in her hand. A flood of memories rushed to her mind like a film roll of experiences projecting across the back of her skull. With a thoughtful look, Hermione pointed the wand at the basket of apples and gracefully flicked her wrist.

" _Wingardium leviosa_ ," she said the words with clear determination, even though Hermione couldn't be sure what they meant until upon witnessing their effect. At once the basket began to float, swaying in the breeze as though dangling from some sort of invisible cord. She smiled faintly to herself, nearly forgetting her audience of Aisling, Tobey and Killian.

"Where'd you learn that?" Killian asked as Hermione returned the wand to its owner. The basket landed on the ground with a soft thud.

"Hogwarts," she answered without thinking. It was strange how certain facts about her life remained a mystery, like there was pockets of information missing from her repertoire only to reappear under the right timing and formula of a situation. She wondered if one day someone would say the right word or phrase and everything in her world would suddenly make sense. Hermione was hopeful but not hedging her bets that it would ever be that simple. Just like the spell she had uttered moments ago, she wasn't even sure what Hogwarts meant even as the word slipped from her lips with ease.

"Well aren't you full of surprises," Tobey said. The three werewolves revealed they had not attended Hogwarts but recognized the name. It was a place that continuously captured the imagination of Artemis's residents as this distant vague place where one learned how to be a proper witch or wizard. Killian referred to it as 'the fancy shmancy wizarding school' with only mild bitterness. The lack of an opportunity for proper education were one of the many disadvantages to those who grew up with lycanthropy and lived on the fringes of society. Hermione had not been told all the details of their past but Hermione could feel through their silent exchanges that life had not been easy for any of them.

They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the outside chores; Hermione mostly went back to her silent observations of the other werewolves while a part of her daydreamed of who she might have once been. She thought about the young woman who had gone to Hogwarts and learned to wield magic with a wand.

"Ah, I was told I could find you all out here," greeted a voice. The four werewolves looked up to see Lupin approaching. Three of the four smiled warmly and responded with polite salutations. Hermione merely looked at him with vigilance.

His use of the stupefying spell was still fresh on her mind so Lupin reasoned her suspicion was valid. The nature of their last interaction was precisely why he had made the effort to build up the trust between them once more. No one said anything about Hermione having used Aisling's wand for fear of reprisal but they all looked amongst each other with guilty-looking expressions.

Lupin quirked an eyebrow but did not try to seek out the reason for their reactions. "I was hoping I could borrow Miss Granger for bit. Would you join me for a walk?"

Hermione was sure she could have simply walked off in the opposite direction but in all likelihood the older werewolf would have caught up to her no matter where she retreated. She had avoided him since their exchange in the infirmary. He could not be trusted not to use his magic against her nor did like that he had defended the other werewolf. _Malfoy,_ she said the name in her head with rising contempt.

Instead of avoiding him further, Hermione took up the invitation with silent acceptance. They walked at a measured pace down through the path that lead to the gardens. The long-legged man shortened his stride for Hermione even though she would have been just fine if they did not walk together.

For what it was worth, Hermione did not hate the other werewolf. She mistrusted him now but knew enough from Harry that his intentions were likely good.

"It is a fine day, isn't it?" He asked conversationally but Hermione did not oblige a reply. She did not care for the human practice of small talk. More directly Lupin asked, "have you been enjoying your stay here?"

She nodded.

"Good," Lupin said with a warm smile. "I am happy to hear it. I want you to feel safe here, Hermione."

 _Safe,_ Hermione thought about the word. Since arriving back in this strange world of civilization everything had felt jarring. From the scratchy material of clothing to the fluorescent lighting at St Mungo's, all the sights and sounds of the wizarding world were accostment to her senses. She had felt an underlying sense of dread every moment she had spent trying to reacquaint herself with this life. Safety only felt tangible when she was outside, the clear sky above her and the warm earth at her feet.

"I also wanted to speak with you openly about something," Lupin said as he stopped walking. He turned to face her, inspecting her expression with earnest expectation. She recognized that face. It was the same one he had each other time Lupin had asked her what she remembered of the past five years. She could never offer him anything of value. She remembered running and running, and the sensation as though her heart would burst in her chest. These were hardly clues.

"Do you know the name of the werewolf who bit you?" he asked.

 _Golden eyes,_ the image popped into her head of face she could hardly remember save but his wolfen gold-hued eyes.

"Was it Greyback?" Lupin pressed, still scanning Hermione's face for any traces of recollection, any sign that his assertions were to be true.  
"Greyback," she murmured the name in soft echo. It felt familiar on her tongue. This was hardly the confirmation Lupin wanted from the younger werewolf. However now her eyes had the thousand yard stare that said she was suddenly somewhere else even as Lupin tried to bring her back to present. _'Hermione? Hermione…'_

A flutter of birds scattered from the trees above them. Hermione craned her neck to watch them take flight; she became deaf to the world around her as her mind drifted to the hazy past. 

**5 Years Ago**

The birds had stopped singing in the trees above. It was an odd thing to notice in such a tense moment but the eerie silence that punctuated the scene stood out. It was as though all of nature was holding its breath to see what happened next.

Hermione had never fought in any sort of hand to hand fight in her life. She had been in plenty of wizarding duels over the years, tallying up most of her experiences in the time she spent with Harry and Ron on the run. However the closest she had come to brawling was when she tried to start a fight with Millicent Bulstrode. A Slytherin student in her year, Millicent had towered over her and pummeled Hermione without batting an eyelash. If it hadn't been for Harry jumping in to save her she probably would have left that situation a little more worse for the wear than she already had. Although in the other girl's defense, Hermione _had_ started the fight. It had only been in a miscalculated attempt to get a lock of the girl's hair for a polyjuice potion but the results had not worked in Hermione's favor. In conclusion, one embarrassing fight under her belt did not make Hermione a worthy opponent to four very large centaurs.

But it did not matter as she tightened her hand in a white-knuckle grip on the dagger's hilt. The four centaurs said nothing as they stalked closer. Hermione took a quick survey of them. She could see now that each of the centaurs donned either a bow and arrow or held a spear. Three of them had reddish brown colorations and blue paint staining their human body with various shapes and archaic designs. The one that was closest to Hermione appeared to be the leader, his equine body was a dapple gray. Dark colored hair with lighter rings of silver dotting his sinewy limbs. His human body was tan from years in the sun and provided a stark contrast to the white of his hair. Despite these human features there was nothing welcoming about the cold brown eyes staring down at Hermione.

Hermione knew enough about centaurs to know they were both violent and unsympathetic to humans. The long history of subjugation between their kind and the wizarding world had left the creatures with little empathy for those outside their group. While Hermione understood their hostility she was in no position to play ambassador as much as she wished she could. She did not know how they felt about werewolves but any possibility of rapport seemed unlikely between the two classes. Instinctually Hermione sensed the preprogrammed prey versus predator hardwiring of her wolf self. Almost acting outside of her own human mind, the bloodthirst in her rose. The centaurs hoofed at the earth in agitation as she emitted another low growl.

Greyback was still unmoving on the ground but Hermione only stole a brief glance in his direction, she did not want to look away from the advancing creatures even for a moment. She prayed that he was to survive his injuries and it struck her faintly how surreal of a thought that was; she wanted Greyback to live.

"Stay back," Hermione warned. She was not even sure if they understood English but as she brandished the dagger, the centaurs seemed to heed caution and paused. There appeared a fifth centaur, stepping out from the brush from behind where Hermione stood.

She was surrounded.

The leader of the group laughed and the sound was like a soft rumble. The four other accompanying creatures joined in and it made Hermione's hackles raise. The standoff could not have lasted long but for Hermione it felt like eternity waiting for anyone to make a move. And then the leader of the group charged forward. He reared up on his hind legs and Hermione was amazed at creature rose to his full height. Was she not trying to defend herself and Greyback from certain death Hermione might have admired the magical creature. Instead she leapt out of the way just in time to avoid being trampled. It was a clumsy tumble but she quickly scrambled back up to her feet. One of the centaurs, a sleek bay colored one lifted the unconscious body of Greyback and tossed him over his back.

"Put him down!" She snapped.

Hermione clutched the dagger and bolted towards the centaur that now possessed the other werewolf. Three of the other centaurs moved in between her and her desired target. She swiped with the dagger and missed the agile centaur. Despite their large sizes, she was surprised to see how incredibly fast their reflexes were. The group sneered tauntingly. It did not matter the the odds were stacked significantly against her in that moment: Hermione was not backing down.

She dodged one of the centaurs as it leapt to kick her just as another stabbed with it's spear. Hermione moved but was only fast enough to avoid being impaled, the blade of the spear slicing her shoulder as she evaded the attack. The young werewolf yelled out as she struck one of the centaurs and felt as the dagger connected with one of the centaurs legs.

It screeched in pain and doubled back as blood pooled on the forest floor. There was no time for Hermione to feel triumphant as the other centaurs closed in. She could see the one with Greyback was just outside the circle watching stoically. In a split second she shifted on her feet just in time to avoid another spear. Hermione swiped back with the dagger and caught the centaur in the side. But it wasn't enough to do serious damage. Another centaur from behind reared back and knocked her down with a swift kick.

She lost the dagger as she fell. _Shit,_ the young woman cursed to herself. Before Hermione could recover the leader of the group was standing above her. Their eyes met with a flash of venom just as his deadly hoof came down and struck her in the face.

After that there was only darkness.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Hermione woke up with a groan. She raised her hand to her face and felt the swollen bruise confirming where the centaur had hit her. _Centaurs_ , her mind rushed immediately back to the fight. With a quick surveillance of her environment she realized that she was in some sort of hut. The floor beneath her was made of dry straw and the walls were no more than an equally primitive construction. It would be easy to escape save for the chain bolted to her ankle. She gave it a tug and saw that it was held to the ground with a giant metal stake. After several violent attempts she accepted that it wasn't going to budge. It was so dark inside the space Hermione was thankful for her prenatural eyesight that allowed her to see clearly despite the dim surroundings.

"Greyback?" She whispered. Nearby behind a mound of straw Hermione heard him cough which at least confirmed he was still alive. She exhaled a sigh of relief, unaware that she had been holding her breath.

"Over here," he said faintly.

Hermione dragged the heavy chain and kneeled beside Greyback, helping prop him up against the wall. He hissed, his hand instinctively lingering over his ribs. If not for his body's healing properties he likely would not have survived his injuries. As it was they both knew he was still in no condition to move. It was strange to see the normally formidable large man in such a dire state and Hermione felt a pang of sympathy at seeing him suffer. When only a month ago she might have wished a worser fate upon her enemy, Hermione saw only a fellow companion enduring excruciating injuries and she wanted nothing more than to help him.

"What do you think they want with us?" Hermione asked.  
"Since neither one of us are dead yet I'd say entertainment or sacrifice," Greyback said and scratched his cheek absently. It was something Hermione noticed he did often when he was concentrating on a matter. "Or both. They are all a bunch of savages."

Given what Greyback had told Hermione of pack life among werewolves in addition to what she had already observed in his character, his comment about the centaurs being savages seemed ironic. However it did not seem like the time nor the place to really appreciate the humor of his observation. They were both now in a worse place than they already been in; surviving the wilderness was one challenge, surviving as prisoners of centaurs was going to be another matter altogether.

"We have to get out of here," Hermione said as she scanned the space for a possible escape. Without any windows it was impossible to tell where they were but her innate heightened senses told her that it was night time outside. They could not be sure what purpose they served to their captors but it was clear that it was in their best interest to not stay in their custody for long to find out. Centaurs did not have a reputation for kindness to their nonkin counterparts.

"First opportunity you see to escape, _take it._ Don't hesitate," Greyback said and Hermione shifted her gaze back to him with a frown.

"I am not going without you," she replied, her lips forming a hard line of resolution. If she had not been sitting down, he surmised she would have had her hands on her hips. All the same Greyback recognized that look as one he had seen on her face countless times since their paths had crossed. It meant he was likely going to lose whatever argument unfolded.  
Weary, Greyback steeled himself.

"You may have to," Greyback said, hoping in futility to convince the strong-willed woman. "It will take time for me to heal and if you have a chance to get out of here you must take it regardless of whether I can go with you."

"You didn't leave me behind, Greyback," Hermione reminded him. "You could have left me back at that cave or let me die any number of times but you didn't. I refuse to abandon you here. We have come this far, we are in this together."

"That's noble but foolish," he said but there was an unmistakable tone of tenderness in his voice. Despite their contentious past their trials and tribulations had altered the fundamental nature of their relationship. It was a realization that both werewolves avoided addressing directly.

Hermione ignored the insult, she was not going to be derailed. She would make him see. "Tell me then, why did you save me? We were sworn enemies but you helped keep me alive."

He did not reply immediately. They had this conversation several times before and each time he evaded answering in her in full but it felt as though it was finally coming to a crosshead. Greyback could not ignore the truth even at the expense of his own vulnerability.

"Because I knew," he started and then stopped, trying to pick his words carefully. "I knew deep down you were worth saving. The man's mind is supposed to be rational but it is easily tricked. It can be obliviated and altered...but the wolf is..The animal soul is different. It knows only truth. The moment I saw you unconscious on the ground, I knew-the _wolf_ knew-I needed to keep you safe."

After a long moment Hermione reached over and took the werewolf's hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. There were words left unsaid between the two but understood by both all the same.

"I'm not leaving you," she said with finality that Greyback could not argue against. One way or another they were going to make it out of their situation _together_. Or at least that was what he would lead Hermione to believe. In truth Greyback was planning to make sure that if and when the opportunity arose the other werewolf would be able to escape-with or without him.

He had not told her all of the truth. While the wolf had made the decision to save her, the man had become endeared to his companion too. She was bright, a sharp mind guided by a kind heart. If the circumstances were different Greyback would have been proud to have her as a packmate. But he knew the courageous woman was meant for a different world. One in which neither of them could exist as equals but as enemies on different sides of the battlefield. Would all they had been through change that? Could either of them go back to fighting one another?

It troubled Fenrir to consider such a moment. In his long unnatural life, Greyback had never felt conflict in his decisions. He killed and killed, first to avenge loved ones who had been killed by wizards and then simply because it had become so routine to his existence he did not question where dark path would lead him. And yet under the earnest gaze of Hermione he felt the seed of doubt take hold in his mind.

Suddenly the door opened and abruptly their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a small female centaur. Judging from her human half she could not have been much older than fourteen-years-old. In the darkness of their confinement her fur looked nearly black. She had long brown hair that covered her bare chest. Cradled in her arms was a small basket, Hermione could smell the food even before the centaur revealed the contents.

"For you," she said in stilted English to Greyback as she retrieved a small clay pot. She slid it across the floor until it landed at their feet. The centaur pointed to Greyback's injuries as part of her instruction before motioning to the pot.

Hermione picked up the container and opened the lid, smelling the contents with suspicion. As clearly as though the ingredients were written on the clay pot she recognized what it was. Comfrey, mint, shrivelfig and spruce wood blended together in a thick paste.

"It's a healing salve," Hermione said and the centaur nodded feverently.

"I am not bloody taking that," he said with defiance. "For all I know it's poisoned."  
"Not poison," the centaur replied. "Make better so you strong. Can fight."  
"Fight?" Hermione asked. She was urgent now, standing up as though they would be called to defend themselves at any moment. "Who or _what_ are we going to fight?"

The centaur hoofed at the straw floor in agitation, casting a look over her shoulder to the open door. Hermione could not tell whether it was to see if anyone was listening nearby or if she was simply confirming there was a safe exit if the werewolves attacked. Hermione took one step forward before she realized she was carrying herself in a predatory stance as though at any moment she would pounce on the small centaur. However the clunk of the metal around her foot confirmed she would be unable to do much even if she wanted to.

"Eat food, take medicine, you must be strong," the centaur warned as she turned away.

"Tell us what's going to happen!" Hermione shouted as the creature disappeared beyond the door frame and closed it behind her.

"Entertainment or sacrifice," Greyback repeated his earlier assertions. "Either way we get to be part of the show. Give me that salve would you."  
Hermione handed it to him and the werewolf gave it a cursory sniff, personally confirming that it wasn't poisonous before applying it to his injured rib cage. Hermione peered into the basket of food and was only slightly embarrassed when her mouth watered at the sight of the bread. They had sustained themselves on whatever they could find in their journey. Sometimes that meant fresh meat when they (or rather Greyback) could hunt but usually it entailed whatever wild onions or berries they happened upon.

She broke the bread in half and gave the other piece to Greyback. He wiped the salve off his hand and took the shared food with gratitude. At least they were being fed, Greyback mused to himself. The container of water was also a welcomed sight.

"Well aren't we in a sad state," Hermione said, mirroring the words Greyback had once said when they first found themselves in their predicament back at the caves.

"Come now pet, you're not helping," Greyback replied and they both smiled faintly as they found what little humor they could in the moment. It felt like that initial exchange had been so long ago. Had they really changed that much since then?

"Besides, there's worse company to be in."

"Agreed," she said and despite the circumstances the mood felt lighter than it had been. Without invitation Hermione sat down beside Greyback, settling herself so that she was close enough to feel him but not so much as she would bother his injured ribs. Greyback silently wrapped one arm over her shoulders and drew her in close.

"We'll get out of this," Greyback said as Hermione drifted to sleep.

* * *

 **Present Day  
Artemis Home**

On the day of the full moon it was difficult to concentrate on much of anything inside the classrooms of the Artemis Home. Hermione was not the only one who was filling the effects of the moon's magic. Even now, invisible to human vision, Hermione could feel the draw of the moon during the daylight hours. It made her restless.

And it was clear by the bored expressions and frequent glances to the window that the other residents were feeling the same. Aisling nudged Killian who gave Tobey a shove when it looked like the latter werewolf had all but mentally checked out of their instructor's lesson.

When the bell finally rang the halls quickly filled with numerous werewolves scrambling to get outside for their well-earned free time.

"I can't wait for the full moon," Tobey said with an exhale. "My skin has been itching all day."

"Hopefully one of the pups don't ruin it like they did before," Killian said. "Not being able to run on the grounds was brutal last month."  
"One of the younger werewolves found a hole in the wards," Aisling elaborated. "So we had to stay in the warded rooms down stairs. I don't like it down there, it's cold and you cannot even see the moon."  
"I heard that's where Mr. Lupin goes for his transformations. He doesn't run with us."

To Hermione it sounded like a travesty. A wolf wasn't meant to be contained. The wild winds churned in their blood. They were meant to be free. How could something so obvious to her elude the older werewolf? The more she discovered about Remus Lupin's way of living with his gift the more she recoiled from it.

Tobey peered at Hermione's disdainful expression. "You know he's not so bad. So what if he doesn't like to embrace being a werewolf on the full moon? He has done a lot for all of us and it's thanks to him any of us have a shot at fitting in someday."

Hermione did not want to argue with Tobey. Even if she had the full range of words to do so, she did not want to start down that path. She knew he was right about the older werewolf's intentions; she could see the kindness in his eyes as proof enough of that. And Tobey was right that it was not her business how he spent his full moons either.

So Hermione nodded in understanding and the subject was dropped.

"Did you get permission from Madame Wright for next week?" Aisling asked Tobey, ushering a change of topic among the four of them. Hermione noted the way Aisling self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she broached the question. She also saw how oblivious Tobey always seemed to Aisling's hopeful gazes.

Hermione had observed enough of their interactions over her stay to know that whatever feelings Aisling shared for Tobey seemed wasted on the unaware werewolf. These exchanges, however, did not go unnoticed by Aisling's twin brother. Killian quirked a brow at Hermione as if to say _you see it too, right?_

"Yeah! I had to sweet talk her into it but we should all be set for going out to Diagon Alley," Tobey said. "Killian, 'Mione, you two are coming right?"

"As long as I finish up my work for Mr. Lupin beforehand I can," Killian said.

"Go...where?" Hermione asked.  
"Diagon Alley," Tobey repeated. "It's in wizarding London. It's amazing...we have to take you. I bet if we tell the staff we could vouch to chaperone you they wouldn't mind."

"Just promise not to get us in any trouble," Killian said with a cheeky grin.

Aisling rolled her eyes, "as if you two needed any help in that department."

Later that day as the sun set into the horizon, every nonhuman resident was lined up outside as the staff did a quick head count. Once it was confirmed that all werewolves were accounted for and the protective wards of the property had been reinforced the residents were allowed to run off. The staff stood at the steps of the manor knowing there was little else they could do for the residents once the full moon reached its pinnacle. They would monitor the residents from within the manor as the werewolves took to the night and roamed the sprawling acreage. Thankfully by morning almost everyone found their way back to the main gardens. The stragglers were always found shortly after sunrise. The youngest of the werewolves were the first to throw their clothes on the lawn, much to the chastisement of Madame Wright who's words of propriety fell on deaf ears of the wildlings.

"Do be careful!" The matronly woman called out to the disappearing figures.

Hermione wandered off into the forest, slipping out of her linen dress without so much as a second thought. It was easy to forget the confines of being human when she was alone amongst the trees. She tiptoed on a fallen tree trunk and there was something so oddly familiar about the sensation.

Her pulse quickened as she felt the power of the moonlight take hold of her body. The transformation buckled her to knees where she released a sound neither human nor animal as the feeling of organs and bones shifting took hold of her. The pain wasn't nearly so bad as she knew what to expect. Fear always made it worse but in that moment Hermione didn't harbor any doubts or any apprehensions. She embraced the wolf within like she was finally coming home.

And just like that the transformation was over. Hermione laid on her fur covered stomach, panting to catch her breath. She inhaled the night air, exhilaration pouring into her limbs. She had a sense of where every single werewolf in the nearby radius was currently located just by their scent alone. She let out an instinctive howl and the deafening sound pierced the night with the simple message: _I am here_. There was a single beat between when the echo faded and a chorus of howls replied back in acknowledgement.

It wasn't long after she felt the presence of the other werewolves reveal themselves. They dotted the landscape, lurking in the shadows of the trees under the bright light of the moon. The young werewolves were small but still much larger than their regular wolf counterparts. Three werewolves stepped forward and she at once recognized them to be Aisling, Tobey and Killian.

The siblings Aisling and Killian both had inky black coats but Tobey was various shades of gray and black, peppered with patches of brown.

Tobey whined softly as the entire assembled pack stood in stillness. They were all waiting. Intuitively Hermione knew they were waiting for her. This was her pack and she was...their _Alpha_.

She regarded this fact with the calm of prenatural understanding. Just as strongly as she felt the pull of the full moon's magic, she felt the weight of a different sort of magic settle into her body's frame. It was the sort of power that meant she could command every single one of the wolves assembled; it also meant that she drew her strength from them. It was strange how innate and natural this knowledge felt.

As though she had known who and what she was all along. _Just beneath the surface._

Hermione howled once more, charging off into the night and setting the pace for the evening run. She was followed by the thunder of paws darting in her tracks. Hermione embraced the familiarity of her stride, bounding over boulders and bushes with blinding speed. Out here she did not have to be the woman, she could be entirely and unapologetically, the wolf.

High above the moon cradled its children in silver light.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: Dear readers, grad school has started for me so in all likelihood updates will likely slow down from here on out. In other words, please be patient! I have mapped out the remainder of this story and have every intention to see it through to completion. I hope you enjoy this chapter I have been eager to get to this point and introduce Theodore to the story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

* * *

 **Present Day  
Nott Manor**

Theodore Nott had only returned to the UK three weeks ago and found the cool gray skies to be a welcome reprieve from the merciless sunshine of Africa. It was too hot, too dry for his taste but living abroad in such a unique place had offered him what the UK could not: anonymity. The years after the war had not been kind to his family. If Theodore was honest with himself, he would say that the decline in the public's eye had started much earlier when his father was suspected of being a Death Eater. The suspicions were both valid and very much true but that only meant that his time at Hogwarts was further dogged by the angry whispers of his peers too afraid to confront him directly about the accusations but brave enough to talk behind his back.

Theodore was all too eager to leave the gossip behind, taking his family's fortune and planting roots elsewhere. They say travelling can expand one's mind and Theodore found that to be quite true. There was a lot he learned about the world in his time apart. But he had also learned important details about himself too.

Save but a handful of his closest colleagues few knew of his sudden arrival back to his homeland and Theodore was perfectly fine with that. In the aftermath of the war that tore the land apart five years ago the former Slytherin had distanced himself from all that had once been so familiar so much so that it felt strange to finally be standing in his father's private library. A stasis charm had been cast before he left, keeping the entirety of the home in pristine condition. Not even a speck of dust marred the interior of the ancient abode.

"Hello father," Theodore greeted although his gaze was fixated out the window and there was no one in the room with him. After several long moments a weathered old man appeared in the portrait closest to where the young man stood. Theodore Nott Sr. had a commanding presence even in the form of paint on canvas, his steely blue eyes matching the same shade of his son's. His face contorted in a glare.

"So after abandoning your heritage home you have finally come back, boy?"

"It would appear so," he answered stiffly. In life, Nott Sr. had terrified Theodore but these days he did not have any power over his only living son. He was nothing but ink and anger after all.

"And what have you been doing all this time?"

"Charity, mostly. I have been restoring our family name's honor," Theodore replied, turning to look upon the unimpressed portrait.

The older Nott scoffed. "You know little of honor. Your mother coddled you as a boy and made you a weak spineless creature. A disgrace to the name."

"Such venom, father," Theodore said in a bored drawl. The wizard drew his wand and without a word drew circles in the air with small flames. The painting of his father eyed the trick suspiciously even as his son continued to speak. "If only you knew the truth of what sort of man I am I daresay you would be _proud_."

"Hardly possible," Nott said with a sneer. "You did not follow the Dark Lord and you turned your back on your destiny. There is nothing you could do to make me proud after the shame you brought upon us."

"If I had done as you had wished we likely _both_ would have been nothing more than paintings on some dusty forgotten wall. What sort of powerful wizard is defeated by a teenager? And his followers no more than caricatures in cloaks. I would like to say I made the wiser choice staying out of _your_ affairs."

" Besides father, some are born to follow," Theodore stepped forward quickly and with horror Nott Sr.'s painting realized what was happening as the flames on his son's wand suddenly consumed the frame of where he resided. "But I was born to _lead."_

The painting let out an anguished yell as it disintegrated into ashes. Once there was nothing more but a dark sooty stain where his father's painting once resided, Theodore gave a satisfied nodd.

He donned a slow cambering smile as he summoned a House Elf. The frail creature flinched instinctively as it popped into appearance at his master's feet.

"Yes, Master Theodore?"  
"I did some redecorating, see to the rubbish will you? We cannot have guests thinking we live like animals here."

"Guests, sire?"

"Another matter I need you to attend to I suppose. See to it that a proper invitation is sent out to Mr. Draco Malfoy; it's time my old friend and I catch up."

 **Present Day  
Artemis Home  
**"Tea?" Lupin offered as he poured himself a cup. Malfoy shook his head, waving off the offer. He wore an impatient scowl on his face as he sat in Lupin's office. Elements of the current occupant's taste in interior dotted the room: different books, a handful of strange magical artifacts, and two pictures on his desk of what appeared to be his wife and child. Malfoy only vaguely recognized his wife's appearance, although he knew her by her name. Nymphadora Tonks Lupin was in fact his cousin but they had never had so much as a passing conversation. Her family history was blighted by her mother's exilement from the Black Family and in turn she too had been estranged from her relatives. As a very young child he had seen the hex marks of Andromeda Black and had imagined she had done something terrible; in hindsight as an adult he cared less of whom she had married if only because he was too weary with his own cursed life to be concerned about a woman he had never met.

"Perhaps one day you could meet her," Lupin said as he traced Malfoy's gaze to the picture of Tonks and Teddy. He knew it was unlikely the young man would accept such an offer but Lupin still held out that stubborn man would.

They had been having these meetings for nearly three years since the fateful day he received an unexpected owl from Narcissa Malfoy asking him to see her son. While the former Slytherin was fairing far better than the day Lupin had found him in his family manor nearly out of his mind, Lupin still saw the cracks in the young man's haughty facade years later. Malfoy was functioning far better than some with lycanthropy but the clues to his struggle were still there if one knew what to look for-and Lupin did.

"I don't believe that would be proper," Malfoy said quickly. "And anyways that is not what I came here to speak with you about."

Lupin sat down in the armchair across from his guest and took a sip from his tea. He quirked a brow in curiosity, waiting for Malfoy to elaborate.

"It's about the other day... When _she_ attacked me," he said. Lupin was perhaps about to protest but the young man raised his hand to halt him. "It is something that I need an answer to because I can't stop thinking about it. She put me under some sort of imperius curse. Can _they_ do that?"

"Hmm," Lupin ignored Malfoy's use of _they_ knowing the other werewolf often had to detach himself from his condition to cope with what he had become. "She was wandless but still...can you describe what it felt like?"

"Like I had no control of my arms; it wasn't that did not want to defend myself only that I couldn't not even as she was choking me."

"I do apologize again for what happened," Lupin said. "But this is quite interesting. I have been working on research of pack hierarchy magic and this may be helpful in understanding it further."

"Pack hierarchy magic? What are you insinuating? I am not any part of those transient groups, thank you very much."  
"I was not suggesting that," Lupin said. "But among werewolves I theorize there is a set of magic that can be harnessed by the alphas. The unique and rare class of werewolves that are capable of leading large numbers of werewolves."

"I still don't know what this has to do with me, old man. I came here to find out if bloody Granger cursed me."

"No, I don't think she cursed you. I think you wolf side was merely responding to her."

"I don't like that," Malfoy said and his face became red with a mix of anger and embarrassment. "How do I turn it off? I don't want any part of this."

 _I don't want any part of this._

The words struck Lupin in their echoing sadness. He was familiar with the feeling as he himself battled it throughout his life. "I know you don't, Draco. I do not have all the answers but I would like to help if you will let me."

He put a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder and for once Malfoy didn't recoil from the gesture of kindness. And to Lupin's surprise Malfoy nodded and simply said, "What do I need to do?"

 **5 Years Prior  
** By Hermione's estimation they had been held captive by the centaurs for a week. The days and nights blurred together as neither of them were privy to what the world outside their prison looked like. Hermione only had her instinctual circadian rhythm to lead her guess as to what part of the day it was. One detail she was absolutely certain of was that every night they approached a new phase in the moon she could feel the shift of the magic in her bones as much as in the air around them.

The only part of her captivity that Hermione found relief in was that Greyback was recovering from his injuries. Thanks in part to the salve given by their centaur liaison as well as his heightened healing properties of his werewolf nature Greyback recovered a little more of his health each day. The bruising on his chest still looked like a map of North America but the sick black and blue was beginning to fade.

To pass time they spoke of various topics, skirting past the heavier issues for more neutral areas of conversation. Greyback, to Hermione's surprise, didn't much mind listening to her discuss House Elves rights for instance and although he offered an amused smile when she told him about her attempts to free the Hogwarts elves in her earlier years, he wasn't the least bit condescending.

"I think your Wizarding Ministry could use a woman with your compassion," he said.  
Hermione hid the faint blush across her cheeks in response to Greyback's smile and warm voice.

"I want to make a difference," she said. "Not just for elves, you know. But for werewolves and all the other magical persons."

"I am sure you will," he replied. Greyback looked to his feet, scuffing the ground beneath him as he continued to speak. "I have always thought that brutal might was the only useful tool for diplomacy but it hasn't served me well in these long years. It hasn't much served my people either I suppose."

"Greyback?"

He shook off the thoughtful expression he had worn for the moment, the wolfish grin returning to his face once more as he raised his gaze to Hermione. "Perhaps your way will be better. But first things first we need to get out of here."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet," Greyback replied. In his experience of escaping and evading, he knew complicated plans were nearly impossible to put together when one was limited on supplies, information and man power. They lacked all three. So their only option would be to wait. Wait for the opportunity to present itself and then pounce on it. Each slow phase of the moon meant they were one step closer to the manifestation of a full moon. He had a feeling the centaurs were equally aware of this detail and had something planned for the werewolves.

 _But what?_ Greyback wondered to himself. He worried less for himself and more for his companion. He still held to his silent pledge that he would do whatever it took to ensure she escaped but time would tell whether he could keep that promise.

The door of their prison swung open and the quick opening allowed them to see that the sky was a dusty pink. _It was dusk then_ , Greyback made the mental note. The centaur that had first given Greyback the healing salve entered the space once more. She brought food each time she visited, careful not to get too close to either of the werewolves as she peered curiously at Greyback's wounds. Each meal time she would remind them to eat and get strong and ignore any questions.

Today in the doorway she was accompanied by five or six squirming centaur children. They giggled amongst themselves as they gawked at Hermione and Greyback. Hermione rose to her feet and although with more effort, Greyback did the same. The children at once stopped giggling.

"They wanted to see the werewolves," the familiar female centaur said as she placed the basket of food on the floor, sliding it carefully close enough to the pair of prisoners without putting herself any closer.

Hermione raised her arms with an unpleasant look, "Tah-dah! Are we not just prisoners but part of a petting zoo now?"

By now some of the children centaurs were nervously hoofing at the dirt floor. The older centaur said nothing, tilting her head to the side as she studied Hermione. It wasn't but a moment later that the centaur girl repeated the same words she always said to them: "Eat and get strong." And at that she disappeared, taking with her the small centaur children.

Greyback was smirking now but said nothing as he dug through the basket's contents.

"What is it?" Hermione said.

"You put the fear of Artemis in those children," Greyback said.

Hermione felt bad at once but only for a moment as the fact still remained that they were imprisoned by the centaurs. Somehow it felt better to be feared by them then treated like pets. Even if the visitors had only been children.

"Apple?" Greyback offered, tossing the fruit to her. He clearly did not think much of the exchange and therefore Hermione would not either. Besides, they had more pressing matters to attend to like planning an escape.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter 13  
**

* * *

 **Present Day  
** **Artemis Home**

Hermione could often be found in one of two places in her free time: outside in the garden, sitting beneath a tall willow tree or perched in one of the library's oversized armchairs. Today the rain outside made the library the perfect hideaway for the werewolf. In the days that followed a full moon she learned the Artemis Home became quiet as most of the residents slept off the residual exhaustion of the transformation. Even her friends had retired to their rooms, only coming out reluctantly to eat in the dining hall during meal times. To the staff's surprise Hermione did not require such down time; she felt fine, even rejuvenated, after her transformation. Her muscles were sore but only from the sensation of running and running into the early hours of the morning. Within a day or two that too would fade.

The silence in the home was eerie compared to the normal clamour of children squealing in the hallways but Hermione was soothed by the steady fall of rain against the windows. The staff had become more permissive with how she passed her time in these slow days so long as she stayed out of trouble. Hermione, to her credit, was content in passing her time flipping the pages of ancient books. As her finger scanned the words, her lips moved to pronounce them softly to herself. She only understood a sliver of the content she consumed but each day her vocabulary and comprehension grew as if the old bookworm was just beneath the surface waiting for her time to appear once again.

There was a knock on the door and Hermione looked up at the intrusion to see Lupin and Malfoy appear in the corridor. The older werewolf entered the library, positioning himself in such a way that he stood inconspicuously in front of Malfoy as a preemptive measure in case Hermione decided to follow through with their previous interaction.

Hermione did not stir; she did not even close the book in her hands as the two men entered the room.

"Good afternoon Hermione, Madame Wright said you would be in here this this afternoon," Lupin said as he walked casually forward. "What is on your reading list today?"

Hermione responded by wordlessly lifting the book to reveal the cover.

"Ah, Frankenstein. Interesting choice."

There was an obvious air of wariness in her posture as her gaze shifted between Lupin and Malfoy. She guessed that neither of them were there to discuss Mary Shelley's use of literary devices. Malfoy had only taken a few steps into the library and was still careful not to approach Hermione too closely. _Smart,_ she thought.

Hermione perceived the paleness in Malfoy's gaunt expression and the dark rings that lurked under his pale blue eyes. She faintly recalled an image of him in their youth at Hogwart's, a memory plucked from the mind's eye that still kept Hermione much too blind to her previous life. She recognized the same sneer but there were subtle fundamental differences in this person and the one old Hermione had hated too.

She could see it but also _sense_ it too. He was deeply troubled.

This invoked only the briefest flash of sympathy in the woman. In truth, she cared very little as to his emotional turmoil. It was self-wrought and by her perception easy to remedy: he rejected his wolf side and it was wreaking havoc on his body and soul. Why could those around her not see this as easily?

"I know you two got off on the wrong foot last time but I am hoping we won't have a repeat of that," Lupin eventually said. Malfoy clenched his fist, prepared for Hermione to spring to violence at any moment. For her part, Hermione merely blinked at the pair.

"Especially because I do believe you made a request to visit Diagon Alley with the others and I would not want anything to disrupt that," Lupin added and Hermione conceded with a nod. It was a fair trade off to tolerate Malfoy's presence if it meant she got to join her friends for the week's outing.

"You smell," Hermione said as Malfoy finally approached. He did not take a seat in one of the arm chairs as Lupin had done but had cautiously put the wand in his hand away.

"I beg your pardon?" Malfoy said, his face contorted in indignation. Despite her words Hermione had not meant that in a childish derisive way. Malfoy did smell. They all did; each individual in Hermione's world carried their own distinct scent too.

"You smell like an omega," Hermione responded in the most matter-of-fact tone.  
"I don't even know what that means," Malfoy said heatedly. He didn't understand her words but they felt like an insult. Turning to Lupin he said, "This is a waste of my time. She has clearly gone mad."

"I'm not mad," Hermione interjected, closing her book. "You do smell like an omega."  
"Hermione, could you explain? We don't know what that means. Are you speaking in terms of pack?"

Hermione was confused: were they not werewolves themselves? How could such basic knowledge be a mystery to either of them? For Hermione the division of ranks among their kind felt instinctive.

"Omega," Hermione repeated and pointed to Malfoy. After a deliberate pause she pointed to Lupin, "Beta. It's where you fit."

"Fit?"  
"In the…" Hermione struggled to find the correct word and made a motion with her hand. "In the ladder. You don't like your wolf it makes your magic weak."

She turned to Malfoy and matched his gaze. Subconsciously, he found himself forced to break from the staring contest. "And you _hate_ your wolf and it makes you weakest."

Malfoy was annoyed but Lupin was fascinated, learning more about pack hierarchy magic in a single conversation than all he had in years of research. "And how do you know all this?"

Hermione shrugged as if the question itself was preposterous. "I just do."

"So what does that make you, Granger?" Malfoy said.

With a knowing smile Hermione replied: "The Alpha."

"Oh son of Salazar," Malfoy muttered. "This is the most ridiculous conversation I have ever had. I don't know why I came here expecting answers to anything. I don't care about pack magic or any of this rubbish. And just so we are clear, I _do_ hate my curse. That's not weakness that's a sign of sanity."

Malfoy was about to leave but in a flash of movement Hermione was out of her chair. She moved too quick once more for anyone to react in time before she grabbed him by the arm. Lupin rose to his feet and Malfoy froze.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in scrutiny, as so though she were looking not at Malfoy but something far beyond the visible eye. After a pause she spoke, "it isn't a curse. He saved you."

Malfoy pulled his arm away but did not have the words to reply. He reminded himself that this woman before him was not in her right mind and spoke of things she did not know anything about. He looked at Lupin who stood by, unsure of how to handle the exchange. "We are done here."

Lupin looked at Hermione as though there were a million more questions he wanted to ask but as Malfoy hastily left the library the older werewolf felt obligated to follow after and see to it that the young man wasn't too rattled. As Lupin departed one matter was becoming clear in that he would need to get to the bottom of how much Hermione knew sooner rather than later. The older werewolf looked over his shoulder as he left and couldn't help but perceive the triumphant subtle smile Hermione wore as she settled back in her seat to read in peace.

Malfoy was disappearing in Apparition by the time Lupin caught up to him. The Slytherin alumnus didn't want to speak any further with them and was eager to put the sight of the Artemis Home behind him. His vision swirled as he Apparated, reappearing outside his family home. That was the second time he had left the werewolf rehabilitation home in haste only this time he was occupied by Hermione's words. Somehow he knew precisely that she had been speaking of Greyback and the revelation shared between them was at once unsettling.

He should have stayed and demanded what she knew of the creature. _It is because of him I have this wretched curse,_ he seethed. Malfoy stalked up to the familiar doors of the Malfoy family residence, whisking by a House Elf that stammered something about a guest. If he had paid any attention to the creature's squeaky words he might not have been caught so off-guard by the sight of his mother having tea with Theodore Nott in the family's formal sitting room.

His mother wore the polite practiced smile, setting her cup down at the arrival of her son. "Draco, darling look who stopped by? Theo was just telling me about his travels in Africa. Come have a seat, won't you?"

Malfoy was not in the mood for entertaining guests, least of all Theodore Nott. As children their friendship had been circumstantial and based entirely on the fact that their parents were close. Their fathers had fought on the same side of both the first and second wizarding wars, their mothers throwing countless parties together. Anytime there was a gala and the children were to occupy themselves while the adults entertained, Theodore was always thrown into Malfoy's little social circle. As a youth, Malfoy had found the other boy strange and his very presence uncomfortable. Deep down he knew it was because Theodore Nott wasn't like him at all. He enjoyed the dark arts and possessed a cunning mind and skewed morality to wield it. Which is why Malfoy had never understood why then he did not ever join Lord Voldemort's ranks.

When Theodore had disappeared after graduation Malfoy had been a little relieved.

Theodore rose from his seat, reaching out to shake Malfoy's hand with a congenial air that Malfoy found to be insincere. _Rehearsed._ "Draco, so good to see you old friend."

"Likewise," he replied but his tone was lukewarm at best.  
Narcissa could sense the unease in her son but her cordial smile never faltered as she too stood up, smoothing away the wrinkles of her gown. "I am going to let you two catch up. Theo, you are more than welcome to join us for dinner tonight. I will be in the study if you need me."

"You are far too kind," the dark-haired wizard said. At that she gave a subtle curtsey and departed, leaving her son with his unwanted guest.

As both men settled into their seats. Malfoy was the first to speak as he poured himself a cup of tea. "How long has it been? Last I heard you were somewhere in the jungles of Africa."

"Tanzania to be precise actually. Marvelous place. I've been doing philanthropy over there with the indigenous wizarding population. Your mother tells me you have been keeping busy here as well. I've heard great things about the Artemis Home."

Malfoy took a long sip from his tea. He never knew Theodore to be one for small talk and hoped the other wizard would reveal the real purpose of his visit soon. "I cannot take much credit, I merely provide the funds for them to do their work."

"Oh why I didn't know you had a modest streak," Theodore said with a mirthless laugh. "Come now, I have reason to believe you are quite involved with your charity."

"What are you getting at?"  
"Nothing but the hopes we might work together. Like yourself I am just trying to make a better world for the less fortunate and perhaps take away the notoriety of the family name in the process. That's something you surely could understand as well as I."

Malfoy bristled. He was aware that like Nott, the Malfoy name had been tarnished by the war. Escaping convictions did not mean that his family had escaped public scrutiny and disdain. Malfoy did not like to be reminded of his fall in social standing.

What sort of philanthropy did you say you did in Tanzania?"

Theodore shrugged. "Humanitarian work with the local werelion population. We established centers to help. Not too different than what you have been doing here actually. We are not like our fathers, Draco; we can use our statuses for making something better."

"That sounds a bit too noble for my taste," Malfoy said and added with a sharper edge. "And I hope to be half the man my father is."

"I see," Theodore replied and a thoughtful silence settled between them. With a nod to himself, Theodore retrieved a business card from the inner pocket of his robe. The black matte cardstock was embossed with silver print:

 **THEODORE NOTT  
THE KNIGHT OF WALPURGIS, FOUNDER**

Underneath in shimmering script was his contact information. Malfoy knew very well how to get ahold of the wizard and found the gesture to be unnecessary but took the business card if only it meant he could be rid of the other man sooner.

"The Knights of Walpurgis?"  
"It's bit archaic I know but branding wise it's got a bit of intrigue, wouldn't you say? We would be pleased to have you join us. The Knights are a network of wizards looking to make a difference.I am hosting a fundraiser in a few weeks and it would be good for you to see some of what we do."  
"Thank you for the offer but I am not-"  
"Consider it before you decline, Draco," Theodore said, cutting him off. "Think on it and I will touch base with you soon."

Theodore didn't give Malfoy any opportunity to protest before he was making his exit. Malfoy considered thoroughly telling the odd man he had no desire to ever work with him but was also grateful to be done with the conversation. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Theodore say his goodbye's to his mother followed by the silence once the front door closed.

He looked down at the card still in his hand, turning it over several times before tucking it away. Theodore had never struck him as the type for philanthropy but then again neither was he himself know for such pursuits. Despite his reluctance, Malfoy did find himself thinking over Theodore's words.

* * *

 **5 Years Prior  
Centaur's Territory  
**

Another day in captivity was another one spent wondering what the centaurs had planned. Neither Hermione nor Greyback wished to find out but the full moon loomed closer and it felt like the approaching date was important to whatever the centaurs intended to do with them.

"You have to be willing to do whatever it takes to escape," Greyback said.

"I will," Hermione affirmed.

"Even kill," he said.

"I will do what it takes but I don't want to do _that_ ," Hermione said firmly. She was sitting cross-legged beside the other werewolf. She squirmed slightly at the idea of taking another's life. Hermione had long relied on her wits to get her out of situations more than might.

"The world has teeth and claws, pet. You might have to," Greyback said..

"Then I will cross that bridge when we come to it," she said. "I have my morals, Greyback."  
"And your morals might cost you one day, my girl," he said. "Sometimes good people have to do bad things just as a bad person might do a little good. I've told you before that the world isn't so black and white."

"Because I am sure there are plenty of Death Eaters that aren't so bad," Hermione said with an eyeroll.

"I can name one or two," Greyback said. It was clear neither were going to back down from this conversation.  
 **  
**To pass the time Hermione and Greyback would debate over one topic or another although today's subject seemed to have veered closer to the list of taboo areas in their companionship.

"The Malfoy bloke isn't as terrible as he seems," Greyback said. "A bit of a wuss but not deranged like his aunt."

Hermione was fairly certain that not being of the same caliber as Bellatrix Lestrange hardly made one the beacon of what is considered morally good.

"We are not going to agree on this, ever," Hermione replied and hoped that would be the end of the conversation. It went without saying that they were going to have differing opinions on what constituted as terrible. For instance, killing was definitely terrible by Hermione's standards whereas Greyback would likely ask: "Did they deserve to die?"

"I never got the impression he wanted anything to do with the Death Eaters to be honest. He never had a taste for violence. Maybe if his father hadn't been so spineless his son wouldn't have had to bear the burden of atoning for his failures," Greyback said. "Voldemort had wanted to kill Draco before everyone, he likes to make a spectacle and he is a master at inflicting pain. He knew that there would be no greater agony for Lucius than to see his only child slaughtered for his mistakes. Which is why he must have thought my idea would be more long term in torment when I suggested having him join my pack. Maybe it amused him. Whatever sold him on the idea it doesn't matter. I turned Draco to save him."  
 **  
**"I can't believe Malfoy is a werewolf too," said softly as she processed the information.

Greyback nodded. "He didn't take the change too well. Last time I saw him I could tell he had been fighting the transformations. It wears down on the body month after month, makes each full moon more painful. After the war was over I was going to help him, maybe have him join the pack and teach him that the wolf isn't something to fear."

Hermione wasn't sure about this information. It made her uncomfortable to think a single empathetic thought about Draco Malfoy. He had not just bullied her all their school years, flinging hurtful slurs at her whenever he could; they had fought on opposite sides of a war. A war, that in Hermione's mind, might still be going on even now.

"If I don't make it out of this can you look out for him?"

Hermione wanted to answer, 'absolutely not' but resisted replying in haste. Greyback had done a great deal on her behalf and therefore it was worth considering his request, even if the mere idea of being around Malfoy made her skin crawl. And yet if living side by side the fearsome werewolf had given her a change of heart as to the kind of person he was, perhaps there was something to be said as to who Malfoy might become. Strangely though it was easier to accept Greyback as an ally in this case than Malfoy.

"Don't give me that look," Greyback said with a frown. "You have kept up with worse company."

He did have a point.

"Let's not focus on such things, we are both going to escape. Together," Hermione punctuated the word 'together' by taking Greyback by the hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. The affection that had grown between them would have surprised anyone but especially Hermione and Greyback. In honesty, the thought of trudging onward in the journey without him didn't seem comprehensible now. They had gone too far together. Besides each day Greyback grew a little stronger and Hermione had faith he would have the strength to escape when the time came.

"You're something special," he said suddenly with a wolfish grin and laughed when Hermione's face turned slightly pink. It wasn't long before they were back to more light topics of conversation. Even though dark clouds lurked on the horizon, both werewolves acknowledged privately to themselves that at least their prison cell didn't feel quite so lonely.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**[Author's Note]** Oh sweet patient readers thank you so much for waiting on the release of this chapter. I had predicted that school would take a toll on my progress with Untamed and sure enough it did. However with school winding down for the summer I am intending to have this fic finished in the next couple months (I am well aware of how ambitious that goal is too). I am so excited to share more about the Knights of Walpurgis and relish all the questions!

Please pardon any errors, in my eagerness to get this chapter up there might be a few.

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **Five Years Prior**

It was hard for Hermione to stay sane as the days slipped by and soon became weeks. She was grateful in many ways for Greyback's steadfast company while they weathered captivity. As each night grew closer to the full moon Hermione found herself pacing with a nervous energy in the small confines of their cell. Greyback, who had for the duration of their imprisonment, been so far surprisingly optimistic and calm. She could sense that he too was feeling the weight of the upcoming full moon's magic but unlike her he had many years of concealing the effects. Whereas agitation seemed to etch itself into every fiber of her being, Greyback was simply quieter than usual.

Everything that seemed to bother Hermione felt amplified by the heavy air of the moon's magic drawing closer. She was frustrated that she was captured but moreso than anything because she still had not found a way out. All through the years Harry and Ron had counted on her to outsmart their foes. For being the most gifted witch of her youth, she didn't like when an obstacle crossed her path she could not surmount.

"You are going to wear a hole in the ground at this rate," Greyback said and that alone gave Hermione enough to pause and turn her energy on him.  
"How are you so calm in all of this?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "Perspective, my pet. I have dealt with worse situations."

"Worse than this?" She said with a frown.

He raised his arm into the waning light of their shared cell and beneath the shadows and scars Hermione could perceive faint numbers burned into his skin. "I don't suppose your professors ever taught you about the werewolf internment centers."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I've only read a little on it." In truth she had only heard of it in passing excerpt in her own personal research. During her zealous campaign to help House Elves she had learned what she could of the government's unpleasant history towards magical creatures. Back before the official start of the first wizarding world the ministry had sought to register the werewolves of the UK in hopes of reducing the public pandamonium caused by attacks during the full moon. She knew from records that the werewolf attacks had actually been but a very small number, however nonetheless werewolf safety became a campaign platform for the politicians all the same and it wasn't long after before the centers were built. Hermione could recite the brief passage word for word even to this day, the text glossing over the actual details of how the werewolves were treated.

"It was one of the hardest times in history for werewolves," he said. "Many lives were lost and without recourse because the ministry reduced us to nothing more than numbers. I was one of the lucky ones to survive."

"They branded you?" She said, taking his outstretched arm. There was an element of tenderness as she traced her fingers over the scars however after a brief moment Hermione collected herself and let go.

"Among other things," he replied with a neutral tone.

Whether she wanted to or not Hermione had begun to truly see Greyback for who he was in their time together. It was instances like these that she realized his worldview was molded by experiences she had no perspective on. He did not need to elaborate for Hermione's imagination could fill in the unpleasant details.

"But take heart, we will get out of this," Greyback said to lighten the mood, summoning his bravade once more as he flashed a contagious smile.

It was a few hours later as the sun began to set that the door flew open. Greyback and Hermione both stood immediately as three unfamiliar centaurs stepped into the space. Two of which carried long sharp scythes that they pointed at the werewolves. Greyback did not blink as one of them raised the blade to his neck he merely stared at the centaur until the other creature stepped back. Despite the fact that the centaur brandished the weapon it was Greyback that won the battle for dominance in their mental match.

The leader of the group unlocked the chains bound to the ground, giving it a pull so that both Greyback and Hermione were forced to move forward. Neither werewolf spoke as they followed behind their captors but Hermione could see Greyback was examining their surroundings as keenly as she was. They were surrounded by large stone and log huts, campfires dotting the field around them. It did not take long for Hermione to see where they were heading. In the distance was a makeshift stadium. She could hear the distant rumble of thunder but as she approached Hermione realized the sound came from within the walls of the stadium and not the sky above.

The charmed shackles at Hermione's feet suddenly unlocked as the two werewolves were shoved into the middle of the arena. The large door behind them swung shut and locked, removing their only possible exit. The cacophony of the centaurs' stomping hooves and high-pitch screaming was 's heart began to race. She could feel the adrenaline already coursing through her veins, her skin itching with the promise of the evening's transformation ahead.

Hermione was embarrassed with herself as she trembled so she bit her lip to quell the rising fear that cradled her heart. If tonight was the night she would die, Hermione Granger promised herself she would die bravely.

Greyback took her by the hand and cast a reassuring gaze. "Follow my lead," he said. For once she did not argue with him but simply nodded.

As the first tendrils of the full moon's light hit them, Hermione's vision blurred to the outside world. She let go of his hand as the transformation set in, fur replacing skin as bones cracked to take on her wolfen form. As a wolf, Hermione's senses sharpened to a fine blade: she could smell the violence in the air, the anticipation of whatever laid ahead of them churning in the crowd looking down upon them.

When she rose to her full stature Greyback was still by her side, his tall silver wolf form towering over her. _Follow my lead_ , the words reverberated in her mind. Each passing moment her human thoughts blurred and faded, replaced by the more primal communication of her animal form. She didn't need to understand words anymore. As wolves they responded to one another instinctively, tapping into a language that transcended human comprehension.

Greyback emitted a low snarl, his hackles raised. It was only a fraction of a moment before Hermione perceived the same threat. From the other side of the arena the wide doors swung open to reveal the other guest of honor for the night. A Giant slowly ambled into the space dragging a tree that he brandished as a club. The centaur crowd's screams turned to excited fervent cheers for the arriving Giant and it did not take much for Hermione to deduce that he was a favorite in this bizarre arena.

At least they finally were able to confirm what purpose they served for the centaurs. As the Giant charged towards them and the crowd's roar grew louder it was clear: Hermione and Greyback were entertainment. Mere toys for amusement.

Hermione let out a vicious snarl, her movements a blur as she bolted to the right just as Greyback sprinted to the left in an effort to evade the Giant's attack. Her human mind wanted to fight for control, to strategize and come up with a plan to survive their predicament but the animal within commanded for control and she had not choice but to relinquish to the instincts.

There was a flicker of fur as Greyback lunged at the heels of the Giant, causing the creature to stumble. Greyback was fast, moving on his four paws just a hair's breadth from the Giant's club.

The centaurs watched from above hissing in displeasure at the werewolf's momentary upperhand. Hermione watched Greyback before mimicking his patterns, weaving and dodging the Giant's grasp as she darted in front of it. Greyback and Hermione were able to work insync with one another, causing enough confusion that as the Giant swung his club and each time missed his mark the creature grew more frustrated.

They waited for their opportunity.

It was but a fraction of a moment that the Giant tried to slam the club down on Hermione just as she evaded once more. Off balance from the momentum of it's swing the Giant could not avoid Greyback sinking his canines into the back it's achilles. The Giant let out an agonized yell as the werewolf tore away skin and muscle. The werewolf did not relinquish until the massive foe fell to the ground.

 _Kill it._ Hermione didn't perceive the words but felt the impression on her mind. She did not know whether the inclination came from Greyback or her own wolf instincts. As the human within recoiled, the wolf did not hesitate. Hermione saw the giant's exposed throat and went in for the fatal bite.

She did not hesitate.

As the taste of blood splashed across her mouth, Hermione the witch could all but disappear behind the veil of her wolfen transformation. She gave into the animal fully if only to safeguard her own humanity and distance herself from the creature she had become.

She did not hear the clamor of the centaurs as they watched their prized Giant fall to the werewolves. Hermione did not hear anything but the ragged breaths of her dying prey. When the last light left the creature, an unbidden howl erupted from Hermione's throat. Beside her came Greyback's deep piercing howl.

The witch within would have been revolted by the scene but the wolf was only triumphant.

In the wee hours of the morning as Greyback and Hermione returned to their human forms they were once more left chained in their cell. Now clad in a coarse robe, her skin beneath it was stained with dark paths of blood. She was exhausted beyond measure, the walk back to their confinement nearly stole the life from her body. Hermione did not want to think about what she had done but the Giant's blood was everywhere and served as a reminder that Hermione had killed someone without pause.

It made her stomach churn.

One of the centaurs left a basin of water and cloths for the two werewolves. The gesture was no doubt a sign that the prisoners had served their purpose for the night's sick festivities. It wasn't until their captors left that Greyback was the first to speak, sensing the conflict in Hermione.

"You had to do it," he said. "It was the only way we were going to survive." Hermione fought back the tears, closing her eyes tightly but only to relive what she had done. She was comforted by the sensation of Greyback's arms around her and slowly she was able to steady her breath long enough to speak.

"That doesn't make it right," Hermione said.

"I know," he replied and that's all that could be said in the moment so neither spoke. She knew Greyback did not regret their actions, he likely did not empathize with her turmoil in the least. But Hermione was thankful that he did not try to press further, merely holding her as she cried.

* * *

 **Present Day  
** Harry looked over the pile of reports on his desk with contempt. The stack that had initially only had three cases of missing werewolves now had four more and underneath that stack were twelve incidents of werewolf attacks in the past two months. Chief Inspector Savage had wanted discretion in handling the cases but they both knew it was only a matter of time before the journalists started knocking at their door.

Harry's keen detective's intuition told him that the missing werewolves and the attacks were somehow connected but he could not see the connections yet for himself. Each case was unique from the next. A middle aged couple in Upton and a fifteen year old girl in Cambridge all gone. Each with family that demanded answers meanwhile insisting there was no way that these individuals ran away. The parents of the girl in particular Harry recalled were furious at him for questioning whether their infected daughter might have joined a pack.

 _What do these cases have in common?_

With a sigh he pulled out a map spanning the areas in question. With a quill he deftly dotted out each case's location until nearly a perfect circle was formed. "Not a coincidence," he muttered to himself, afraid to be too eager in any possible leads as he inspected the map closely. It was mostly rural backcountry roads with sparse residences. Still going off his intuition, he took out his wand and tapped one of the map's dots. At once the dot glowed and gold lettering hoovered in the air to reveal the address.

Harry's eyes narrowed at the familiar name behind the address:

 _Nott Family Residence_

Committing the address to memory he tapped the map and the glowing letters disappeared at once. Harry grabbed his Auror robes as left the office in search of answers.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Author's Note: I sat on this chapter for a while guys and I am sorry for that because I know how eager everyone has been to see how this unfolds. No excuses but the same old same old of living a super hectic life. Thanks for understanding! I appreciate your support!**

 ****  
"Do you think he will join us?" Blaise Zabini asked, his tone was casual but Theodore's could tell the fellow pureblood wizard was uneasy with how the meeting had gone with Malfoy. Blaise had known Draco Malfoy for as long as Theodore but it was Blaise that had always been a closer companion to Draco in their school years. Which was why he had offered to speak with the reclusive aristocrat and was still unsure why Theodore thought it had been better for him to initiate the conversation.

While there were a great deal of things Blaise did not understand about Theodore Nott there was one important truth: Theodore was powerful. Not just in his command of magic, but his political prowess and strategy made him a valuable ally. Blaise had not hesitated in joining the Knights of Walpurgis for exactly that reason.

"It will take some time," Theodore drawled as he tipped back his glass of scotch, letting the liquid scorch the back of his throat as he considered his words. "I believe he will come around. Draco has always been a pragmatic fellow, he just needs a little more persuasion."

Theodore stared thoughtfully out the window. "However he seemed different, more aloof than I recall him being back in our Hogwarts days."

Blaise shrugged, "He's become that way over the years but your guess is as good as mine as to why. I'm not entirely convinced he's gone a bit mental to be honest. One would have to be to break off an engagement with Astoria Greengrass."

Theodore quirked an eyebrow, glancing at the seated wizard with sudden interest. "What happened?"

"No one knows really," Blaise replied. "One day they are planning an extravagant affair and the next he's calling it off. I think it humiliated poor Astoria a bit but she hasn't said much to anyone either. Last I heard she wasn't considering any new suitors."

He took a drag from his cigar before adding, "It's a pity too. A pureblood witch that beautiful deserves better."

"My, my Blaise old man do you fancy Miss Greengrass?" Theodore asked with a wry grin.

"Any wizard with eyes would be a fool not too," Blaise replied coolly.

"Hmm," Theodore paused, considering an idea. "Let's send along an invitation to the fundraiser gala to the Greengrass family as well."

Before he could elaborate further there was a soft pop as a House Elf appeared. "Master Nott has a visitor from the Ministry, an Auror he said he was."

"Did he say _who_ he was?" Theodore asked in boredom.

"His name is Harry Potter, master," the House Elf replied and instinctively flinched at uttering the name. Theodore made no movement of aggression on the creature. The name didn't conjure quite the same sentiments in him as it had in his father. "Should I tell him you are not available?"

"Of course not," Theodore said and waved a hand dismissively at the small creature. "Let's not keep our guest waiting, take me to him."

Obediently the House Elf scurried out of the room with Theodore walking leisurely behind him. Blaise thought for a moment whether he should stay behind but curiosity spurred him to follow suite, pouring himself a discrete glass of firewhiskey at the bar stand on his way out of the lounge.

"Potter! So good of you to stop by!" Theodore greeted from atop the marble stairs of the mansion's main entrance. Behind him Blaise rolled his eyes at the other wizard's bravado, not entertained by the Nott heir's flair for exuberance. By the front door Harry stood stoically, clearly unamused with the greeting as well.

"I am here on official Auror business." Harry revealed his badge from his inner robe pocket, levelling a serious gaze at the taller wizard, "and I have a few questions to ask."

"Yes, whatever I can do to help," Theodore answered, now standing in front of Harry.  
"May we speak privately?" Harry asked, his eyes moving to Blaise still standing at the top of the stairs like a cheshire cat.

Theodore nodded, leading Harry through a nearby atrium of the mansion that lead into a formal sitting room. "What brings you out this way?"

"There have been several disturbances in the nearby areas and your property is in the middle," Harry said.

"Disturbances?" Theodore said with a thoughtful frown. "I haven't witnessed anything around here. What sort of disturbances?"

"Werewolf attacks," Harry said and watched for the other man's reaction. He withheld that several werewolves had gone missing in the area as well. He knew there was a strong chance the missing werewolves might have been responsible for the attacks but Harry couldn't ignore the nagging sensation to investigate Nott. His proximity to the attacks was too suspicious after all his family's dealings with Voldemort and the Dark Arts. 

"Oh no," Theodore said with an expression of mild alarm. "That sounds awful."  
"And I take it you don't know anything about these attacks?" Harry asked pointedly.

"No, not the slightest," he said and appeared aghast at the suggestion. "Potter, I do not know what sort of wizard you take me for but I am most certainly a law-abiding citizen."  
"You will have to excuse my suspicions based on your family's history," Harry said.  
"I am not my father," he said with indignation. "Listen, I know we didn't get on well enough in school but I have worked hard to make a better name for myself than the legacy my father left behind."

Harry said nothing; he knew he had no evidence to base his suspicions. A hunch was not enough to act on even though Harry wanted nothing more than to drag the wizard in for further questioning. Theodore knew this as well.

"I have nothing to hide," Theodore said and with an agreeable disposition added. "And I know you are just doing your job. I promise you that I haven't heard or seen anything but I will make sure to keep an eye out for anything."

"We will be in touch," he said.

"Certainly, let me know whatever I can do to assist," following Harry back to the main entrance way. "For what it's worth I truly hope you catch whomever is responsible for the attacks."

Harry gave a curt nod, his eyes briefly narrowing at Blaise who was slowly moving down the stairs with a frustrating smugness, before departing from the Nott residence.

After a few long minutes Theodore turned around to see Blaise smirk. "That was a wonderful performance, Nott."

"Convincing was it?" Theodore said with a laugh.

 **Artemis Home  
** Hermione surveyed the woman in the mirror, still trying to figure out whether she liked what she saw. The blouse and jeans were a gift from Ginny, part of a rather large box of clothes the redheaded witch had collected for Hermione when she came to live at the Artemis Home.

 _I guessed your size, Ginny had said. And I remember violet was your favorite color._

She touched the silk sleeves and a foggy memory from her past ushered to the surface of her mind. _She was wearing a violet gown of the same texture, twirling under the glimmering lights of a thousand floating candles. The memory was somehow painful. Hermione remembered the forced smiles and trying to keep from crying. Hermione pressed further, trying to decipher the scene but the memory was like the others. Fleeting and all too fragile._

Sometimes Hermione wanted to know the meaning of these glimpses into who she used to be but lately the werewolf found herself okay with the unknown. She wasn't sure she wanted old Hermione's life or it's memories. The space between the present and the past was still a void. _What is it they say? Ignorance is bliss._ Deep down she was starting to realize she might not like what she uncovered and yet this stirred a conflict within her another part of Hermione kept longing for something. At first she thought it was her old life she was so desperate to have back. To be the friend Harry thought she was.

But there was something else. _Someone else,_ a voice in the back of her mind amended.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Hermione beckoned the guest to come in. Aisling greeted her with a smile, "The boys are downstairs, ready to go?"

They had been planning the trip to Diagon Alley for weeks, saving their galleons for the night on the town. Lupin had been only mildly reluctant to let Hermione join them, cautious as to whether she was truly ready for being out in the town alone. However the other three werewolves insisted she would be chaperoned the entire time to which Lupin acquiesced. It was admittedly a strange dynamic: he was their caretaker but they were also adults, including Hermione.

"We'll be fine," Tobey said with a broad smile as he stepped into the floo, saying the name of his destination and disappearing in the green flames. 

"Look after one another and do not start any fights," Lupin reminded them.  
Killian nodded dutifully and dipped into the fire, disappearing just as easily as Tobey.  
"And be back by curfew otherwise you will be locked out for the night," Lupin said to Aisling.

"We know, sir," Aisling said as she too faded into the floo.

Lastly Hermione stepped up to the fireplace. She had rehearsed the steps countless times but still felt a twinge of nervousness as she drew closer to the unnaturally colored flames. Lupin stopped her.

"Be careful, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded, saying nothing else as she stepped into the flames. There was a brief flash as she spoke the destination, her whole body lurching forward with the magic's momentum. Within seconds she found herself stumbling out of the fireplace of an unfamiliar fireplace. Aisling, Killian and Tobey were already waiting for her. Tobey offered a hand to help her out of the enchanted fireplace while Aisling dusted off a layer of soot from her shoulders.

"Oh good we didn't lose you," Tobey said.  
"He's only half-joking," Killian added. "I wasn't going to say so in front of Lupin but I almost thought we were going to need to go to floo to floo to find you."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they left the shop, "where are we going now?"

"Where all the young ladies and gentlemen go on a Saturday evening: to the pub!" Tobey declared, pointing dramatically to some general direction down the street and causing several old ladies to scowl at him.

With Tobey leading the way, the four of them set off to the pub. Aisling, Tobey and Killian spoke with one another with the eagerness of three children heading off to Hogsmeade while Hermione quietly followed along.

 _Hogsmeade._

A memory of a town she vaguely remembered drifted into her thoughts. She remembered the feel of her red and gold scarf around her neck, the taste of butterbeer on her lips. Harry and Ron were telling her a story as they walked through the cobblestone streets and she was laughing. Hermione couldn't remember the details but the memory felt good and she found herself smiling inward.

"Something funny, Hermione?" Killian asked.  
"Nothing really," she said but before she could say anything further a voice broke through the crowd.

"'mione!" Hermione turned and saw a red-haired man bounding towards her. Freckled and tall, he had deep scars where his left ear would have been.

Even before her mind could process fully where she knew him, his name came tumbling off her lips: "George."

To the surprise of her companions the wizard immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. "Oi! I didn't know you were out in about! You look great! I'd have come visit you sooner but Ginny said you were..."

George had the sense to catch himself, realizing she was in the company of three people he did not know and he did not want to divulge her ongoing condition. Hermione appreciated his discretion even if it wasn't warranted.

"These are my friends: Aisling, Tobey and Killian. They are like me," she said and the three others gave a friendly nod in greeting. "I would like you to visit." 

The human part of her, the one that was relearning appropriate social behaviors, told her she should ask about Ron. The wolf part, however, could not care less. Hermione chose to side with the latter half of her identity in this regard. 

As if on cue, George said. "Fantastic. And I'll tell Ron to owl you. Sorry he's been a bit of a git."

It was a strange apology but a familiar one. Ginny had said nearly the same thing only a week ago and although Hermione had only vague pieces of her past, she had the sense that the Weasley siblings had apologized for Ron more than once.

"It's nothing," Hermione said with a smile and truly she meant it. She had smelled the fear and tinge of disgust on Ron in that hospital room during their last encounter and it clouded her perception of him. Whatever thread existed to their shared past neither person seemed keen to keep it intact. Hermione did not have the memories to bare any remorse about the loss.

George grinned and gave her one last hug, "I better be getting back to the shop but it's good to see you. I'll be sure to stop by."

The redhead nodded to the other three as he bid his adieus and left them to their excursion."

"Seems like a nice bloke," Tobey said but his eyes were already drifting down the street to the distant sign of their destination.

"He is," Hermione said and regardless of how little she could recall of her past her intuition told her that much was true.

When they arrived at the pub, Hermione was relieved to find it quiet and dimly lit. It smelled of tobacco and stale beer but the lanterns on each table made it feel warm and inviting. Hermione took a seat while the others ventured to get their drinks and it afforded her an opportunity to observe the other patrons. There was a couple old wizards sitting on barstools in the middle of a heated drunken debate. She watched for a moment until the bartender intervened and like a seasoned mediator he convinced the two men that what they needed was another beer. Moments later the were clinking steins and laughing once more.

In another corner a woman with blonde hair was flirting with a man about ten years her junior. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear which set off a chain reaction as he eagerly tossed down the galleons to pay his tab and disappear with her. Hermione was fascinated by the volley of human interactions, eager to observe even though she was still discovering her place in this world. She wondered if she would ever feel like one of them or would each conversation feel rehearsed and somewhat exhausting? Would she ever be happier among people than running through the forest?

 _Some are not meant to be tamed,_ the words sprang to her mind and she knew she had heard them before. Hermione wanted to follow the train of thought and perhaps who had once said it but was cut short by the thud of a beer glass in front of her.

"I know you said you weren't going to drink but where's the fun in that?" Tobey said.  
"Don't worry if you don't want it I will take it off your hands," Killian interjected.  
"Isn't he noble?" Aisling said and Hermione cracked a smile.

They carried on in pleasant company with Hermione taking ginger sips and mostly listening to the other three talk. She liked that the trio never forced her into conversation like others did. Even those she liked, Harry and Ginny, tried too hard to draw her out of her inner world and she found it exhausting.

From time to time Hermione's gaze would dart to a nearby table full of young wizards. They had been rowdy but tolerable when they first entered the bar. But as the evening wore on and they became more drunk their antics started to rev up, Hermione's agitation grew. They were loud. Abrasive. The wolf in her was growing restless. Aisling tapped her elbow and drew Hermione's attention back to her friends.

"Should we leave?" Tobey asked with mild concern. Aisling and Killian were both watching her closely, attune to their fellow werewolf's moods.

Hermione nodded, taking several calming breathes like Lupin had taught her to do when the outside stimuli became too much.

They were quickly making their exit when one of the drunk young wizards stumbled backwards into Killian, setting off a domino effect to their evening's events.

"Hey! Do you have a problem mate?" The drunk wizard barked at Killian. The dark-haired werewolf, still possessing the clarity of a mostly-sober mind, tried to de-escalate the situation with a friendly smile.

"Eh, no trouble here just trying to leave," he replied.

But clearly that wasn't going to be enough. The drunk wizard had a glazed look in his eyes and an itch to fight. He moved his frame to block Killian from getting any further towards the entrance and jabbed a finger at the werewolf's chest.

"I don' think I like ya attitude," he said.

Killian had a momentary confused expression, "Attitude? Mate I am seriously just trying to get out of here."

"I thin-k-k ya looking for a fight," the wizard slurred.

And before Killian could get another word in the drunk wizard took a swing at him to the sound of his equally drunk friends' cheers.

Only the punch didn't connect. 

Hermione had seized the drunk wizard's fist midswing and in a fluid movement twisted it behind his back with blinding speed. She effectively spun him so that he faced his friends wide-eyed with surprise. Hermione drew her forearm across his throat from behind and despite her shorter stature, dragged him down to her level with a tight choke.

There was a slow snarl from her lips, her eyes flashing an animalistic gold in the dim light. Everyone watched in paralyzed horror. With the exception of Killian who stood behind her looking more sheepish than anything else.

"Bloody hell Hermione I could've taken him," he muttered.

"She's a werewolf!" one of the drunk wizard's friends sputtered as the realization occurred to not just the wizards before them but now the entire pub.

"DON'T LET HER BITE ME!" The drunk wizard still in her grasp yelled, suddenly losing all the bravado acquired from one too many shots of firewhiskey. He fought against her grip feebly until Aisling said her name in a cautious tone.

"Hermione…"

And at that Hermione released the wizard, tossing him like a rag doll towards his friends. The unhuman glow of her eyes didn't subside as it bore down on the group. With her prenatural hearing she could perceive the whispered words of the other patrons as some began to recognize the curly-haired war heroine:

 _Hermione?_

 _The Hermione Granger?  
She's a werewolf? _

The whispering continued until it felt like a dull roar in her didn't wait for the other three as she left the pub but could feel them fall into step beside her. No one spoke for at least fifteen minutes as they put the pub quickly behind them.

Eventually Tobey was the one to break the silence: "So is anyone going to ask the question? When did Hermione learn to brawl like a sailor?"

Aisling, Tobey and Killian looked at Hermione expectantly. She simply shrugged.  
In truth, she was equally as curious to understand this newfound detail about herself but put the question in the same box as all of the other mysteries about her life. Only time would tell if they were ever to be answered.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Author's Note:** Wow, I really was surprised by the wonderful encouragement from last chapter. Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to share a few kind words. It really lets me know to prioritize getting the next chapter ready for reading!

 **Chapter 16**

 _ **The Past  
**_ Hermione only had a fraction of a second to dodge Fenrir's punch, the attack only brushing through her hair as she evaded in a side step.  
"You need to be quicker," Fenrir said calmly and came at her again before Hermione had a chance to fully regain her fighting stance. Despite his agility, Hermione knew the other werewolf wasn't utilizing his full abilities. She had been by his side for the past six months and seen what he could do to an actual opponent. He was lethal.

Six months, six moons, had gone by since their first weeks as prisoners of the centaurs. Six times Hermione had stomached the arena, surviving each bloody fight with what felt like a little less humanity in tact.

She would scrub and scrub the blood of her opponent's from her skin in hurried panic until Fenrir would manage to calm her. Hermione had lost track of how many times she had cried herself to sleep in the slow months of their imprisonment but somehow Fenrir made it better just by being near.

Fenrir, to his credit, had done his best to keep her occupied. That was how they had started their daily training together. This did not go unappreciated by Hermione in the least who prior to learning from Fenrir had never known how to fight up close and personal. With the absence of books and outside company, honing her body's abilities gave her something to do. The witch had always relied on the use of magic but without a wand to defend herself Hermione was thankful for the new set of skills even if she wished she would not ever need to use them.

Their ability to spar together was only made possible by the fact that the centaurs had grown lazy over the months of their captivity. They no longer bothered with the chains unless transporting Hermione and Fenrir to the arena and rarely kept a guard posted at their door anymore. _They have become complacent with their pet werewolves,_ Fenrir had remarked to Hermione recently. She had seen the gears in his mind turning ever since. They both knew that it likely wouldn't be too much longer before their opportunity to escape presented itself. She was eager to leave behind her prison cell but Hermione had also learned the valuable lesson of patience.

Hermione fumbled backwards as she retreated from his grasp, falling over in an ungraceful thud. She cursed under her breath as she wiped the sweat from her brow. Fenrir extended a hand to help Hermione up and hoisted her back to her feet without any effort.

"You are thinking too much about it," Fenrir said.

"I'm thinking about how _not_ to get hit," Hermione countered.

"Exactly, don't do that," he said with a chuckle. "I have already taught you the techniques so let the wolf take over. You have more speed and power than you think if you just trust your instincts."

"Okay," Hermione said with a nod of determination. Her brow furrowed and Fenrir smiled inwardly. He secretly enjoyed Hermione's tenacity and the way her eyes lit up when she became focused on a task. She stood in a defensive stance, ready to fight.

He didn't wait and came at her again only this time Hermione didn't evade. She moved into his attack and stole his momentum, taking his arm and twisting it behind his back. To his surprise, Hermione brought him to his knees with a forceful kick behind his knees. The unexpected counter left him facing away and buckled to the ground.

"I win," Hermione said, unable to mask her triumph.

Her advantage only lasted for a brief moment though. Fenrir only needed to hunch forward suddenly to throw Hermione off her feet and into his back. With one massive arm he swung her around.

"Oof," Hermione huffed as she landed on her back, staring up at a grinning Fenrir.

"Good follow through, but try not to gloat until you're really sure you've won next time," Fenrir said with amusement and Hermione couldn't help but smile back. He was leaning forward with his face only a few inches from Hermione's own. The intimacy wasn't wasted on the witch, her heart racing both from the exertion of their spar and his sudden proximity. It felt right. At some point in their hellish ordeal Hermione had begun to see Fenrir not simply as a fellow victim of circumstance but someone she genuinely cared about.

She wasn't sure who initiated the kiss, only that Fenrir's lips on her own felt both electric and intoxicating. Fenrir drew her closer into his lap as their embrace deepened.

Everything about the moment felt natural to Hermione as she traced her hands up his chest and touched the scars there like a familiar map. His hands were entangled in her hair, pulling her close in each intense kiss.

But their private moment was abruptly shattered by the rattle of the prison door. Fenrir growled in annoyance with Hermione echoing a similar sentiment as they pulled themselves apart from one another.

Thankfully the intruding centaur had only come to drop off their evening meal. The being was completely uninterested in the two werewolves and just as quickly as it had set the trays by the door was it gone from their sight.

After several long moments when they once again clearly alone Fenrir looked at Hermione with a devilish grin, "now where we again?"

 **Present Day**

 **Artemis Home**

Hermione woke with tears in her eyes. Again.

It happened more frequently than she cared to admit to herself. And it was never clear what had made her cry in her sleep but Hermione always felt left with the lingering sensation of heartache. She couldn't remember the details of her dreams and it frustrated her nearly as much as the lost memories of her past. Her intuition told her the unrecallable dreams and stolen memories were related.

 _Something feels missing,_ Hermione thought which she knew was an understatement. Nearly all the important details of her life were missing. The young woman sighed and resigned herself to the residual sadness her dreams always left behind. She climbed out of bed and readied for the day.

No sooner had she left her room did she meet Aisling at the stairs. She could tell at once by the other werewolf's expression that something had happened. They had mutually agreed last night that it was probably for the best not to mention to Lupin the incident at the pub.

"Mr. Lupin sent me to come get you. He asked to speak to us immediately," Aisling said.

"Did he say why?"

"No but I think we can guess," she replied.

When they arrived at Lupin's office Killian and Tobey were already there trying hard not to look like a couple of pups that had just been caught getting into mischief. It turns out the metaphor wasn't too far from the truth.

"Good morning Miss Granger," he greeted and with a nod at the door beckoned Aisling to close it behind her. For a long moment no one spoke.

Lupin placed the morning edition of the Daily Prophet on the desk where the four young werewolves could see the headline for themselves:

 **IS HERMIONE GRANGER A WEREWOLF?**

"Who would like to explain first?" Lupin asked, both his tone and expression were calm but Hermione could see the way his lips pursed slightly that he was trying to hold back his frustration.

No one spoke.

"They started it," Hermione said eventually with very little hint of remorse. "The man was loud, drunk and wanted to fight. I stopped him and that's all that happened."

"No, that isn't all that happened," Lupin said with a sigh. They had not only drew unnecessary attention to themselves, fought a wizard and been exposed as werewolves. "There were many witnesses that confirmed that your eyes were glowing. The whole world knows now that you have lycanthropy."

"So?" Hermione said.  
Her impudence left Lupin momentarily speechless but he quickly recovered. "So? I don't think you understand the implications of…"

"I don't care who knows I am a werewolf," she said with an edge to her voice. "I am _proud_ of what I am."

"That's not what I mean, Miss Granger," Lupin said, suddenly wishing that the other three werewolves were not present for this conversation. He had wanted to reprimand them for being careless and irresponsible but with Hermione present he was going to lose track of the conversation.

In the heat of the exchange he paused to momentarily appreciate that Hermione's grasp of language had been restored from what it had been only a month or so earlier. She was clearly sharper than ever.

"I know exactly what you mean," she asserted.

Lupin turned to Aisling, Killian and Tobey, "Could I ask you three to leave us for a moment?"

The trio were eager to slip out of the office, exhaling hard as they had been collectively holding their breaths. Outside the doorway Tobey remarked to the others: _So we aren't in trouble then?_

"I was trying to protect you. We all were. The world is cruel to those like us. Inside these walls it is easy to feel normal because everyone at Artemis Home bares the same burdens but out there is different. To the outside world we are _lepers._ And unfortunately they will never treat us as equals."

"Then we make them," Hermione said. "We can't stay in the shadows hating ourselves because it is convenient for the majority."

Her jaw was set with determination telling the older werewolf that the young woman's mind was completely made up. It reminded Lupin of when he was her professor so many long years ago. He had seen that expression countless times, whether it was in a classroom dispelling a Boggart or facing down a would-be foe. She was tenacious and stubborn, both admirable qualities in the right circumstances.

"Very well. That doesn't change the fact that you all made a scene," Lupin said, trying to direct the conversation back to its original purpose. He didn't want to delve into personal philosophies of what it meant to be a werewolf. "And you should probably know then that there is a large number of reporters currently stalking the front gate. They have been there all morning."

"Good," Hermione said and spun on her heels to leave.

 _Good?_ Lupin wondered as she left his office abruptly. A few minutes passed before he saw her from the office window marching purposefully across the lawn. _Oh no._

Lupin followed after but it was too late. As he approached where Hermione was standing before the gates he heard her address the crowd.

"Hello," she said. "I am Hermione Granger and what you heard is true. I am a werewolf."

 **Knights of Walpurgis Gala**

 **Present Day**

Draco arrived at the castle while the gala was well underway. He had only accepted the last minute invitation under his mother's persistent nagging. Despite being in his twenties it annoyed him that she still had a way of getting him to do what she wanted as though he was a child refusing to eat his vegetables.

He vowed that he would not stay long as he climbed the entrance stairs. _45 minutes at the most,_ he promised himself.

Once inside Draco took a moment to acclimate to the buzz of excitement. The orchestra music filled the space as the large sea of partygoers moved about. Everyone was wearing their finest clothes and appearing carefree. He was envious of them because this had once been his world. All his life he had been groomed for the high society afforded to him by his pureblood pedigree but even standing in the throng of people dressed in the finest robes he felt like an outsider. The secret of his condition felt like an albatross across his neck.

Draco could not recall the last time he had attended such a function but felt at once uneasy surrounded by the sights and sounds of his environment.

"Draco! Darling how are you!" The wizard turned at the sound of his name recognizing at once the witch hastily moving towards him.

"Good evening Pansy," Draco replied with a ghost of a smile.

She stood on her tippy-toes and kissed his cheek. Pansy smelled of powdery perfume and alcohol. She fluttered her dark eyelashes at Draco and he thought to himself how little had changed about his Hogwarts sweetheart. The witch no longer sported her black hair in a posh bob but rather long tresses down her back but her features had not aged in the least since they had last seen each other.

"It's been too long! I've missed you," she drawled. "What have you been up to?"

"Just a bit of travelling and taking care of my family's affairs," Draco said and forced himself to return the courtesy of conversation. "And what about you? What is Miss Pansy Parkinson up to these days?"

"You mean soon to be Miss Pansy Warrington," she said with a giggle and pushed her hand a little too close to his face. Shimmering on her finger was an obnoxiously large diamond ring.

Draco mustered a congratulatory smile, "That's wonderful Pans, congratulations."

"It is marvelous isn't it?" Pansy preened, examining the ring under the chandelier light as though she was seeing it for the first time. "Cassius spent a _fortune_ on it."

"That's nice," Draco said. He had already mentally vacated the conversation, his eyes wandering across the crowd for particular familiar face. He sensed her. Even among all the chaos of the guests, he knew she was here and somehow that alone stole the breath from his lunges.

"Excuse me, Pansy but there is something I need to do," he said and did not even look back as he wandered off. Draco followed where his intuition guided him, feeling the pull of her presence and convincing himself that seeing her would be enough.

 _She doesn't even need to know I'm here._

But seeing her wasn't enough because as Astoria came into his line of vision he suddenly longed for so much more than his circumstance allowed. Her blonde hair was tucked behind her ears in barrel curls and adorned with a velvet green fascinator. She was a vision of beauty in her emerald gown.

 _Green was always your color,_ he thought as he watched her from afar. It pained him to know what he had lost but he could not look away.

Suddenly she turned away from her conversation and for a moment their eyes caught. Briefly there was a look of confusion across her countenance before recognizing him. She smiled brightly but Draco saw pain there too. He wasn't surprised by the look. _I hurt her too after all,_ he silently said.

But what did surprise him was that she excused herself and started to come his way. Draco thought he could lose her in the crowd but was stopped by her hand on his arm.

"Draco, please don't do that. We're adults, you don't need to run away," Astoria said and her voice drove a deeper ache in his heart.

"I wasn't running away my-" Draco caught himself from finishing the words. _My love._ The endearment nearly sprang from his lips against his accord. Collecting himself, he asked (and truly meant it when it came to Astoria). "How are you Astoria?"

"Well enough," she said with a smile and embraced him in a hug. Draco felt his heart hit his stomach feeling her so close to him. Even the wolf within him, the blasted creature, seemed to stir at her proximity. "I am happy you are here."

 _I've missed you_ , he wanted to reply but instead he simply said. "It's good to see you too."

Astoria could feel the rift between his words and the emotions hidden in his blue eyes but she said nothing on the subject. They both knew it was treacherous territory to navigate.

"Draco, my good man you made it!" Theodore yelled and Draco cringed inward.

"Evening Nott," he replied as the wizard threw an arm over his shoulder like they were old friends. Despite their history, Draco would have been reluctant to claim as much himself.

"And the sweet Miss Greengrass," Theodore greeted Astoria. She gave a polite curtsy and he kissed her hand.

"I came to steal her away for a dance if I'm not intruding?" Theodore asked. Draco nodded silently.

"I would love to," Astoria replied and gave a smile to Draco as she left.

"Stick around and have a drink. I have some exciting news to share soon," Theodore winked as he passed Draco and it made the werewolf's blood boil. There was something about that wizard that bothered him and Draco tried to convince himself it wasn't just because he was currently dancing with Astoria.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter 17  
Present Day**

Draco watched with thinly contained contempt as Theodore swept Astoria in a waltz around the dance floor. He asked inwardly what he was doing torturing himself with the sight even as he could not look away. He loathed Theodore in that moment but Astoria would always be divine, no matter who's arm she was on.

 _It should be mine,_ Draco thought as his animalistic instincts rose to the surface. He quelled them with the cold logic that it had been his decision to push her away. It was therefore his fate to see her find happiness elsewhere.

Draco was grateful when the music stopped and the dancing guests dispersed. He had only been at the gala a short while but was quite ready to go home and pretend the night never happened. Theodore went to stand in front of the orchestra, drawing his wand to his throat for a spell to magnify his voice.

 _I swear to Salazar I am leaving if he starts singing,_ Draco said silently to himself.

"My esteemed wizards and witches, I am so thankful that you all have come here tonight," he said as he plucked a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing House Elf. "Because I want to share some very special news with you all. As many of you know I have dedicated my life to improving the lives of others through my organization's various projects."

Draco scoffed, wondering if Theodore was simply going to toast to his own existence. The blond wizard, in mimicking Theodore's gesture, grabbed a glass of firewhiskey on a passing tray for himself. He was going to need something with a little more bite if he was going to withstand Theodore's speech in its entirety.

"But I can only do so much as a private citizen and I realize if you want to make big changes you must first commit to big challenges," he continued. "Which is why I am proud to announce that I will be bidding to become your next Minister of Magic in the upcoming elections!"

The news was met with a deafening roar of cheers and applause. Draco surveyed the room and saw the surprise and excitement of the other party-goers. He committed himself to a slow clap just for appearances but carried no joy in his expression. Neither the mortal part of Draco nor the wolf he kept hidden within trusted Theodore Nott and the news of his political aspirations didn't stir any feelings of good will.

Draco made his way to the outside balcony, inhaling the cool air that greeted him and the reprieve it granted him from the gala's stuffy air. When had society begun to feel so oppressive?

"A galleon for your thoughts?" Came a voice from behind Draco. He looked over to see Blaise Zabini approaching him, a cigar in his mouth.

"Just taking a break from the festivities," Draco responded. He had no intention of disclosing the full breadth of his gloomy thoughts.

Blaise leaned against the balcony beside him. "It's quite some party isn't it? What do you think of Theo's news."

"He never pegged me as the political type," Draco responded. "But I suppose it is good for him." 

"Good for all of us, Draco. He's going to do great things for our country when he becomes Minister."

" _When_ he becomes Minister? Are you his campaign manager now, Blaise?" 

The other wizard smiled. "Something like that."

Blaise tapped his cigar over the balcony edge and watched as the embers tumbled away, their orange hue fading into the darkness below. After a long moment Blaise went on. "I know it's been awhile since we've spoken Draco and I can't help but wonder what happened to us. We used to be like brothers. And maybe I am to blame for us growing apart but I want to change that."

Draco peered at Blaise with a guarded expression. The blond wizard knew perfectly well that _he_ had intentionally distanced himself with his former friends, Blaise included. He waved off the other man's words, a little unsure of where the conversation could possibly go.

"Don't think anything of it," Draco responded casually, eager to change the subject.

"I'd like to see you join the Knights of Walpurgis," Blaise said, finally getting to the real reason for his little conversation and hastily added. "Have you considered Theo's invitation?"

"I don't know what I could possibly offer your group," Draco responded. After Theodore had left his card, the wizard had done his research on the group and found nothing but glowing praise for the wizards' association. They were a wizard's philanthropy group according to what Draco had uncovered which wasn't anything Theodore had not already told him. Indeed their work with setting up wolfsbane clinics in remote parts of the world was align with Draco's ownership of the Artemis Home. But his charity work was far less noble and rooted in more personal significance.

"You have always been a brilliant businessman, and we could use your savvy. Besides maybe there is something the Knights have to offer that you might want as well."

"Such as?"  
"Come to one of our meetings and find out," Blaise countered with a knowing smile. Draco, bored of their conversation, would have said just about anything to be done with the discussion and eventually agreed to attend the next Saturday evening meeting. 

**Past**

 **The Centaur's Camp**

"It's time," Fenrir whispered, kissing Hermione softly awake. In the stillness of the night Hermione knew what his words meant and steeled herself for what they had been planning. Tonight was the night they were going to escape. She suppressed her nerves and tried instead to will herself to embrace the moment.

In the months of their captivity Fenrir and Hermione had become more of the centaurs' pets than prisoners, no longer were they regularly chained inside their cell and there was never a guard posted outside their door. But this night was marked special by the fact that the guard had been careless as the werewolves listened for the tell-tale click of the front door's lock. Only it never occurred.

She gathered what little she had to take with her: a thick cloak to ward off the winter air and small canteen before nodding silently that she too was ready. Hermione's heart raced with anxiety and anticipation at the thought that after so many long months they might finally be free. She had stopped thinking about the war and even Harry and Ron months ago, her mind made numb by the constant pit fights. Her only reason for existence had become simply to survive.

Fenrir approached the door and saw from it's opening that no one was around. Centaurs were not nocturnal and the two werewolves had chosen this time to escape knowing the creatures patrolling the perimeter would likely be drowsy. Aas he inched the door open Fenrir paid cautious attention that no one would see them and Hermione dutifully crept out in his tracks.

As they moved amongst the shadows neither said a word. In truth Hermione could hardly even breathe for fear of drawing attention to them. Just as they cleared a corner around the building a centaur on patrol turned the corner as well. The creature did not have a moment to react before Fenrir had snatched the spear from his hand and drove it into his throat.

The centaur watched as his own blood pooled from his throat, gurgling with confused and terror in his eyes before faltering over. Dead. Hermione hardly blinked at the corpse as Fenrir quickly snatched a nearby tarp and tossed it over the creature. A vaguely distant part of her noted that the sight should have troubled her and at some point in her life it might have.

But violence had become a backdrop to her life as the centaur's prisoner and she thought nothing of the fallen creature.

"I will meet you on the edge of the field," Fenrir whispered, pointing to the location in the distance.

"What do you mean? You must come with me!" Hermione responded with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"I will, my love but there is one thing I must do," he said and kissed her. As their lips parted he did not wait for her to reply, emphasizing his instruction. "Go!"

And then he disappeared behind a centaur's yurt. Hermione heeded his wish with the full knowledge that if he did not meet her at the edge of the field she would go back to retrieve him.  
However it was not long before he was back at her side once more. No sooner had she asked what he had done did Hermione see his handiwork in the distance as parts of the centaur's camp caught fire.

"A distraction," he said.

"More like a parting gift," Hermione amended coldly. The countless pit fights she had been subjected to for the centaurs amusement meant she would never wash her hands clean of the blood that had been shed. Hermione had been changed irrevocably.

Neither werewolf regarded the camp aflame for too long before they sprinted into the forest, leaving the painful memories of their imprisonment behind. 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**[Author's Note]  
I haven't forgotten this fic! As those who have been following my other Fenmione Wolf Island already know, I am in grad school and during the bulk of my time I am inundated with writing papers. But please know I have every intention of finishing this fic even if it's at a glacial pace! Thank you for your continued support, readers. **

Harry had been looking forward to seeing Hermione but just as Ginny and him were getting ready to Apparate a message came through from the office and it wasn't one he could ignore. With a sigh Harry traded his quidditch shirt for Auror robes, kissed Ginny good-bye and Apparated to the the Auror's downtown London station. No sooner did he pass through the building's ancient doors was he greeted by a several rookie Aurors.

 _"_ Did you hear the news, Potter? There was half a dozen werewolf attacks reported just last night."

"Last night? There wasn't even a full moon," he chided with a hint of exasperation. Harry tried to remind himself that he had been a rookie at one point as well but their lack of critical thinking skills were enough to elicit some annoyance.

"See for yourself, boss had us put the report on your desk," one of them replied. Harry quickly made his way to his office where a neatly stacked set of parchment waited for him. To his surprise the young aurors had been correct in their claims, at least from Harry's cursory examination of the reports. Six victims, all dead, all showing signs of death by werewolf. Even the sample of fur found at one of the scenes confirmed it was a werewolf which ruled out more plausible possibilities. _Of it literally being anything else,_ Harry said to himself.

He looked at the calendar. The full moon was two weeks away. _How is this bloody possible?_

The victims had all been in one remote neighborhood on outskirts of the city. It was a lot of attacks at once. _Could there be more than one werewolf?_ That thought troubled Harry as recalled the still-open cases of the missing werewolves. None of them had any prior convictions though and their families were adamant that they had been model citizens. Harry still considered them victims even as the weeks drew on and the rest of the precinct considered the missing werewolves to have fled to live among the mysterious packs that lived in the remote forests of Scotland.

However these sudden strange attacks gave him reason to consider if there wasn't a connection. Harry's mind drifted to Hermione, recalling the cold trail of her past that he still believed involved Greyback.

Chief Inspector Savage suddenly entered the open door without any preamble, "Someone already leaked the reports to the press. Please tell me you have a bloody lead."

Harry wanted to tell the Chief that he had only seen the reports a few moments earlier but knew that it wasn't what the older Auror wanted to hear. Excuses, no matter how valid, were never tolerated.

"I will start digging up what I can but chief this doesn't make sense," Harry said with a frown.

"None of it makes sense, Potter! I am well aware of that much," Savage said. "We have six dead to werewolf attacks when there was no full moon and still three missing werewolves."

Harry looked at the chalkboard in the corner where Theodore Nott's property was still circled on a map. "My instincts tell me Theodore Nott has something to do with this. His property was right in the middle of the original abductions and his family's history of-"

"Nott? You told me you already questioned him and nothing came of it," Savage said.  
"Nothing came of it, yes but I am still not convinced-"  
"Theodore Nott is the star wizard of the Wizengamot and according to the papers he might be the next Minister of Magic, if you don't have any leads on him I advise you to drop it."

"But sir," Harry began to protest.

"I mean it Potter, we have a serious crisis on our hands and this isn't time to settle vendettas. I know his father was a bloody Death Eater but as I recall the boy was squeaky clean." 

Harry wanted to retort that not having a Dark Mark was not a benchmark for being 'squeaky clean' but he held his tongue at the risk of being suspended for insubordination.

When Harry chose to say nothing at all but nod, Savage turned to leave but not before he said, 

"Get to the bottom of this Potter, I'm counting on you."

 **Artemis Home** ****

"You look good, Hermione, _so good,"_ Ginny said and gave Hermione a tight squeeze. Ginny had apparated at the school's back entrance to avoid the zoo of paparazzi still clambering at the front gate. Everyone wanted a chance to speak with the war heroine gone werewolf. She knew it had been exactly the type of publicity Lupin, Harry and the others had hoped to avoid but Hermione simply didn't care. She did not care who knew what she was nor who had a problem with it. It was as much a part of her identity as her curly hair.

Hermione smiled but she knew that "looking good" was code for "acting normal" for most of her old friends. Tonks had said the same thing and even Neville and Luna when they had come to visit (and also present Hermione with a wedding invitation) only three days prior. Hermione wasn't offended. It only meant she was assimilating into the life her old self once had, a person she still was resolving to understand even as she acknowledged that she was someone different now.

Bit by bit she remembered pieces of Hermione's past. _My past_ , she amended. She remembered that she had a cat named Crookshanks during her school years and that a boy named Viktor Krum had taken her to the Yule Ball one year. Among the bigger memories that were coming back to her like hunting for Horcruxes, she remembered small insignificant details like her favorite candy at Honeydukes or falling off a runaway broom one summer. Friends and loved ones, enemies and acquaintances. She could remember them all.

But the past five years? They continued to evade her even as she felt closer to the truth each day.

"Thank you for coming by Ginny," Hermione said as they began a leisurely stroll towards the property's gardens. "How is Harry?" 

"He's doing fine, just incredibly busy. He wished he could have stopped by today but he was called into work suddenly. He told me to send his love though and he will be sure to stop by soon."

"I understand," Hermione said and they walked in comfortable silence for several minutes.  
"So the reporters at the gates are all for you? Your big statement is all the Wizarding world is talking about right now," Ginny said.

"It wasn't meant to be a big statement," Hermione said and thoughtfully didn't add that she merely had wanted to prove a point to Lupin. She wanted him to see that she wasn't ashamed of what she was nor would she let being a werewolf be a taboo subject.

"Of course not, Miss President of SPEW," Ginny said and rolled her eyes. Hermione smiled. Among the little details she remembered of old Hermione's life SPEW was another one. "So I guess my next question is what are you going to do next?"

To be honest, Hermione's next item on her to-do list was nothing more than to go to the library and read. That was it. The rest of the world could go to hell in a handbasket over her announcement if that was to be the case. However she gauged by her friend's expectant look that she wanted to hear a more far-reaching goal than her plans for the afternoon.

Hermione shrugged, "I don't know yet."

"Well surely you don't want to stay here anymore, why don't you come live with Harry and I at the Hollow."

"Why wouldn't I want to stay here? This is my home now," Hermione said with a mild frown of confusion.

"It doesn't have to be though now that you're feeling better," Ginny said.

 _Better._ There it was again. Her well-meaning friends tip-toeing around lycanthropy as though she had been cured of dragon pox and was no longer contagious.

"Thank you for the offer Ginny but I like it here. It's good for me to be around other werewolves. Besides I don't think you need me taking up extra space at your home when you have a baby on the way."

Ginny stopped in her tracks, eyes wide as she gasped in shock. Hermione paused beside her, confused by the reaction.

"How did you know? Harry doesn't even know!" Ginny said with a sharp whisper.

"Your scent is different," Hermione replied matter-of-factly before it was her turn to be surprised. "And wait, you haven't told Harry?" 

"I just found out myself and I was waiting for the perfect time," Ginny said.

"Oh," Hermione said. To recover from the moment she gave Ginny a hug. "Well congratulations anyways. You and Harry will be great parents."

"Thanks Hermione," Ginny said with a nervous laugh. Despite it all she was excited to talk to someone about the pregnancy and it wasn't long before she was chatting about all her hopes and wishes with Hermione. To her duty, Hermione listened patiently for at least an hour before Ginny looked down at her watch and realized she had an appointment with the medwitch to keep. So they parted ways in the garden and Hermione sat alone on a bench for awhile.

The silence blanketed her and while she normally relished the solitude Hermione felt an inexplicable ache in her chest. It was the same familiar pain she had suffered when waking up from forgotten dreams over these long months. _What have I lost?_ She asked herself.

She stared at the rose bush in front of her and found herself transfixed by the wilting petals. A gentle gust of wind would sweep one, two, three of the delicate petals off their stem and she would watch as they slowly drifted to the white-pebbled ground. It reminded her of something and she stared awhile longer trying to trace the memory to its origin. Each petal was a deep crimson against the ivory stones.

 _Like blood drops on the snow._

And that was when Hermione remembered what had been buried deep. The tears began to fall from her eyes as she cried out. Hermione sobbed openly as the gates to her past opened for good.

 _She remembered it all._

 **The Past**

"That's a pretty steep climb," Hermione said as she eyed the mountain pass before them.

"We've been through worse," Fenrir replied and Hermione had no choice but to agree. They had been through _much_ worse. She glanced over her shoulder as though expecting to see remnants of the centaurs they had left behind many miles ago by now. "And we can get through this. Just beyond this mountain I am sure we will find civilization."

"And if not?"

"Then we stay in the forest forever and live happily ever after," Fenrir said and this evoked a smile from Hermione. He grinned and gave her a kiss. She melted against his embrace, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin that sent a shiver of excitement through her.

 _Happily ever after._

A part of her found the idea irresistible. Hermione Granger had never been one to run away from her problems but this didn't feel like running away. It felt like she was _choosing_ Fenrir and neither the wolf nor women part of her could argue against that. What was left for her back home? Neither of them knew how the war had ended, if it had even ended at all. Regardless, whatever they went back to, Hermione knew it was only to be a divided world. Fenrir couldn't exist in her old life as neither could she belong to his. So what if they forged a new path? Out here. Together.

Hermione clung to the idea even as she continued to hug Fenrir and feel the sinking reality begin to take hold. She could run away from the Wizarding World but she couldn't abandon Harry. She didn't know how long it had been since the Battle of Hogwarts but she couldn't stand the idea of him making that final stand alone. In the months she had spent fighting for her life as a prisoner of the centaurs she had pushed thoughts of him and Ron and the world she had held dear away. The only thing that had kept her going through those violent painful times was Fenrir.

Hermione began to cry, feeling the hot sting of tears well in her eyes as she revisited the choices she had to make. Getting back home had always been the plan so why now did it feel so hard? Fenrir pulled away with concern etched into his expression. "What's wrong, love?"

"I want us to live happily ever after," Hermione said. "I want to see my loved ones again. I want both. But I don't know how it's going to happen, Fenrir. I don't know and that scares me because, because…"

"We will find a way," he said and the calm in his voice cut through the panic racing through her heart. She looked up into his gold eyes and saw only truth. He wasn't trying to merely placate her. Hermione could sense it through the bond between them: Fenrir believed they would find a way and slowly Hermione too began to feel the same.

Their love would find its way.


End file.
